


Soul Love

by Scarlett_Oakenshield



Series: With Love, From a Sunflower [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abused Reader, Anxiety, Anxious Reader, Banter, Book 4: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Book and Movie, Bottom Severus Snape, Canon Compliant, Cute Severus Snape, Domestic Fluff, Drama & Romance, Emotional Baggage, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Feels, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hufflepuff, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Love, Making Out, Past Abuse, Playful Sex, Protective Severus Snape, School Dances, Severus Snape is soft, Sex, Sexual Content, Sexual and Non-Sexual Intimacy, Switch Severus Snape, Teasing, Top Severus Snape, Triggers, dance instructor snape, dance lessons, nosy albus dumbledore, passionate love, poetic erotica, protective Reader, reader is a hufflepuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:26:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 58,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22906198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scarlett_Oakenshield/pseuds/Scarlett_Oakenshield
Summary: Amidst the excitement of the Triwizard Tournament, Kit and Snape write their love on each other's bodies and enjoy the physical and emotional intimacies of their relationship. At the same time though, some of the demons of their past, alongside Kit's suffocating morality, begin to test them. Kit deals with the trauma of past abuses, and Snape has a ticking time bomb of a secret he intends to keep.
Relationships: Severus Snape/Reader
Series: With Love, From a Sunflower [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1553173
Comments: 6
Kudos: 104





	1. Summer Lovin'

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! So, if you recall, I told you there was going to be sex. Well, this is the story that has it. And it's also going to be in the next two after this. This particular story depicts what I think is a much more mature and passionate love than a fluffy one. 
> 
> There are a couple "fade to black" scenes at the beginning, and some mild 'dirty talk' later on, if you want to call it that. The action/word is also mentioned...a lot. 
> 
> Now, I like to write my sex scenes with pretty poetic prose, meaning I use metaphors for everything. There are also two longer sex scenes, which I will indicate with horizontal lines and an "Ahem" to separate them from the rest of the story. Depending on my readers' preferences, I can also split the two longer scenes into separate chapters so they will be easier to avoid. 
> 
> WARNING: This story also includes mentions of past abuse and self-harm which may be triggering to some readers. I will put a warning at the beginning of each chapter that includes these things. 
> 
> Now then, friends, onward with the story!

With Love, from a Sunflower: Part 4

_Soul Love_

* * *

**_“New words, that only they can share in_ **

**_New words, a love so strong it tears their hearts…_ **

**_…Love is careless in its choosing_ **

**_Sweeping over cross a baby_ **

**_Love descends on those defenseless_ **

**_Idiot love will spark the fusion.”_ **

**_-Ziggy Stardust_ **

* * *

I: Summer Lovin’

**_AHEM._**

You’re pressed to a wall, and you can feel his hot breath on your face. You make no attempt to resist him, but you fall into him eagerly. Your kisses are slow and deliberate, and you only pull away to breathe. He takes your hips and you arch your back so you can feel your hearts beating as one. When you pull apart, he presses his forehead to yours, gasping for air. His thumb brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“Kit…” 

You open your eyes to study him. “I want to cleanse Lockhart’s taint of you.” he says.

_Cleanse Lockhart’s taint of me…? Is he asking…_ You feel your body heat up. You study his expression. His face is slightly pink. He clarifies what he means. 

“May I have sex with you?” he asks. You smile softly, cheeks going hot. You nod your head and you go in to kiss him, briefly running your hand across the front of his trousers while you deepen it. 

“I’d love to make love with you.” you reply, gazing warmly at him. His eyes slowly narrow, and he goes in for another kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck and fall into him. He kisses your jaw, and your neck, and then lifts you to straddle his hips. While your lips move together, he carries you over to his bed, only tearing you from him to throw you down onto it. He climbs on top of you. He holds you down by your wrists. He captures your mouth in his again, and then starts to go for your jumper. 

You go stiff beneath him, and he immediately stops and pulls himself up, his dark gaze piercing you. 

“Severus, wait…” you gasp, “Please, be gentle with me…” 

His gaze softens and he leans down, his lips brushing yours when he speaks, “I will be.” Your face flushes in the dim light of the oil lamp. You sit back up for a moment. You cup his cheeks and kiss him chastely. You take off your jumper and cast it aside, and he puts his hair up before pushing you back down. 

-xXx-

Breathy sighs and moans accompanied by soft suckling sounds fill the quiet air. His tongue and teeth press into your soft, salty skin to mark your neck as his. You bend and curl into him as he tastes you. Your fingers grasp his neck and tangle in his hair to keep him at your sweet spot. Soon, two pairs of hips are thrusting and grinding together with slow and deliberate movements, as he fills you with love.

* * *

In the summer of 1994, the old house at Spinner's End was full of nightly sovereigns of sighs and groans. It's proof that a new couple in their honeymoon phase is living there. 

If someone were to be invited there for dinner, they'd be greeted by a petite figure with a fondness for yellow. Once they got inside, they'd step inside to a quaint and tidy little house, with a record player near the sofa and a vase of sunflowers on the table. The kitchen is usually cluttered and untidy, and often occupied by a stoic and sullen man in all black. 

If the guest is led inside and offered refreshments, they'd see him there. He won't turn to greet them unless his partner tells him first that the guests have arrived. Although the couple doesn't usually host guests.

The man in black finds it unappealing. His lover likes guests though. But the lover is perfectly fine with just the two of them and the pets: The tuxedo cat, and the barn owl with mismatched eyes. 

Although, summer is drawing to a close, so they won't be at Spinner's End much longer. They'll have to go back to work, you see, to the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The lover wishes that things didn't have to change. But the man tells his lover that nothing can ever stay the same. 

_Pity._ You, the Lover, thinks, _I wish it could stay like this..._

-xXx-

After much convincing, you’d managed to get Severus to buy a freaking phone so that you could communicate with some of your friends in the Muggle world. Except…between keeping house together, learning how to cook, cultivating your potion skills, working you part-time gig, and having plenty of wonderful sex, you’d kind of forgotten to use it. 

One late morning, the screaming telephone signal wakes you up. You sit up in bed, keeping yourself covered with the blanket. You groan. 

You answer the phone, “Hello? This is the Snape residence--” 

_“KIT LAUREL OAKLEY WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN!?”_

You wince, “Christ, Renee! You’re going to blow out my eardrum!” 

_“We’ve been trying to contact you since June! It’s the middle of August! Do you have any idea how worried we’ve all been about you? Not a phone call, or any letters! We missed your birthday!”_

“Well, I can assure you I’m completely fine. Wonderful even. Choosing not to go back to my house this summer was the best decision I ever made.” 

_“I agree you needed to get out but that isn’t the point I’m making here! We’re all worried, and we’re all supposed to go to the Quidditch World Cup! Where are you!? This isn’t like you to be so irresponsible.”_

“I’ve been at Spinner’s End. Severus has a house here and he invited me to spend the summer with him.” you say, “We’re together now, you see.” 

_“WHAT!?”_ you hear another voice on the phone. 

“ _I’m your best friend and you didn’t tell me!?”_ says another.

“Oh! Hello Eliza, Stella. I know, I’m sorry, I just…I was so excited that it just sort of…slipped my mind…we’ve been spending every moment together…except when I go to work, that is.” (You were working at a coffee shop nearby.) 

Eliza huffs, _“I wish you would have told us sooner, you dumbass. But it’s good to know you’re okay. Is he treating you well?”_

You’re about to answer when you hear a quiet “Hmm.” From underneath the covers. You feel bare arms wrap around your middle and a nuzzle against your naked chest. You giggle when his breath and hair tickle your skin. 

“Ah—Severus…” you chuckle, “Stop, I’m on phone…” 

His response is a sleepy hum. 

“Ahem. Yes, it’s going wonderfully.” you reply, “I’m so sorry I’ve been so absent, shall we go for a spot of lunch? Tea? Coffee?” 

_“I mean, we could probably meet in like the next hour or less if you can stop shagging each other for one second.”_ Stella teases. 

_“Stella!”_ Renee exclaims, _“You can’t just mention that so loudly and casually!”_ Eliza sniggers on the other end. 

_“What? It’s perfectly normal and natural behavior.”_ she replies. 

_“But, it’s private.”_

_“Aww, poor Renee…”_ Eliza coos, _“She’s embarrassed.”_

You clear your throat to get their attention, “The next hour? Sure. I can do that. Severus and I weren’t planning on doing much today, anyway.” 

_“Ya gonna be able to survive being apart for like two or three hours?”_ Eliza teases. 

“Yes, we’ll be absolutely fine.” you say, _“_ Anyway. I’ll see you in like an hour or so, then. Bye for now! Love you~” 

_“We love you!”_ says the chorus on the other end. You hang up the phone and set it back on the stand. You roll your eyes and shake your head, chuckling with amusement. You feel movement on top of you again. You look down. Severus is grasping around your middle and looking at you with his deep eyes, studying you intensely. He’s awake at last. You smile and ruffle his hair. 

“Good morning.” you say, “I’m going out with my friends in a bit.”

“And I do hope you enjoy yourself, but you’re not leaving without giving me what I want first…” he adjusts himself and goes in to kiss you, but he’s cut off when a shameless, furry body lands right in between you and mewls. He glares at the interruption and you laugh. 

“Lily, you silly~” you say, looking at the cat. She purrs. Then you hear a scream from your side of the bed. You turn to see a barn owl puffing his chest and flapping his wings from his perch. 

“I swear if that bird doesn’t learn to shut it…” Snape mutters lowly.

“Oh! Jareth and Lily are just hungry. They’ll leave us alone as soon as they’ve been fed.” You shoo the cat, from between the two of you. She darts out and sits on the bed, staring at you and flicking her tail, watching your movements closely. “Mwah~” you peck Severus on the nose, and he pulls his body from on top of yours so you can get up. You walk across the bedroom and grab his old Slytherin robes from the hook on the rack. You put them on and button the bare minimum of buttons to cover yourself, and then you put out an arm for Jareth to hop onto, before you make your way into the living space with Lily at your heels. 

After that, you have time to make sweet morning love, and to take a quick shower, before you leave to meet your friends. 

-xXx-

You have a fun and light-hearted get-together, and you return home with two tickets to the Quidditch World Cup final. 

“Severus! Look what my friends sent home with me!” you toss the tickets on the dining room table, “You’ll come, won’t you?” 

“Well, if the tickets have already been bought, it would be a waste if I didn’t.” he says. 

_A simple ‘yes’ would have sufficed, darling._

“Wonderful! This is so exciting I can’t wait!” you say, “Do you remember my friend, Damocoles Smith?” 

“You mean the one with the ego the size of a house that could never keep his mouth shut, never listened, and always had to have the last word? The one that constantly was an insufferable arse that would say things just to get under your skin? Oh yes, I remember him. The number of points I took from Ravenclaw because of that boy…” 

“Yes, Sev. Him.” you say, “Well, although he might be in a wheelchair, that man can ride a broom! He was one of the best beaters the Ravenclaw quidditch team has ever seen, and now he plays professionally. He plays for the Ireland team!” 

“Let’s hope he doesn’t embarrass himself, then.” he scoffs. 

“Sev!” you groan, “I guarantee you that he won’t. He’s far too skilled for that!” 

“Even the best make mistakes, isn’t that what you told me just last year?” he asks. 

“Why you—you are just…” you feel yourself getting flustered, “Now you’re just being ornery!”

“Obviously. That’s _only_ one of my defining personality traits,” he says. 

“I _know_ that! And sometimes it makes me wonder why I even put up with you. Hmph.” You toss your hair for emphasized sass. 

He stands up from his chair and leans over the table, you mirror him, “Oh please.” he purrs, “It’s because you can’t get enough of me.” he smirks. His lips brush your ear, and his hot breath heats up your face “...You practically _beg_ me to undress and get on top of you every night.” He purrs. 

“Oh, now you just…shut it!” you exclaim, feeling the familiar hot rush set over you again, “You vulgar brute!”

He places his fingers under your jaw, “Don’t try to deny it.” 

You chuckle breathily, and close your eyes halfway, and lean in, but right before your lips touch, your index finger boops his nose. He blinks and stops in his tracks. You pull away from him and start to leave the dinner table. You walk to the middle of the room, and turn around, you place your hands on your hips, grin over your shoulder, and wiggle teasingly, “If you want to undress me, you have to catch me!” you sing-song. And then you’re giggling childishly and disappearing down the hallway. 

“Oh, I’m the ornery one, now, am I!?” he calls after you, “How dare you “boop” my nose! Come back here!” 

“What are you going to do to punish me, then, hmm? Take away house points? Or how about articles of clothing?” you ask. 

“Why you—” 

“Severus~” you sing-song, “Come _play_ with me!” There’s a creak of springs when you hop up onto the bed, pose there, and wait. You hear him coming down the hall, he appears in the doorway. He crosses towards you, and tries to wrestle you to the mattress, but you roll away from him. A fleeting ‘chase’ occurs, before he pins you. Your sides heave as he bends over you. 

“I’ve got you, you little brat.” he says, and then bites the sweet spot on your neck. 

“Ahh!” you squeal.

You feel the warm moistness of his lips against your flushed skin, and you giggle breathily.

When he pulls away, he captures your mouth for a steamy kiss, his hands traveling under the hem of your jumper. 

* * *

-xXx-

Before you know it, you’re off to Dartmoor for the final. The match is between Ireland and Bulgaria. You’re carrying a worn handbag that’s bigger on the inside, carrying what little possessions you need for the short sojourn in Mr. Roger’s Campsite. You’d lost the case you pleaded to stay in the hotel, because the rest of your friends would rather stay in a magic tent than spend more than twice as much for a cramped hotel suite. 

Eliza is waiting for you when you get there. She stands on the dirt path, with a wide smile spread across her lips, painted matte black, with short, curly bubblegum pink hair, and a leather jacket. 

“Hello! Hello sweetheart!” 

“Hi!” you grin widely. 

She pulls you in for a hug and kisses you on both cheeks. Then she remembers Snape is there and pulls away, clearing her throat. “Hello, Professor Snape.” she nods respectfully.

“Miss Forrester.” he replies, “What are you up to these days?” 

“I’m an auror for the Ministry.” she says. He hums with approval. 

“Ahem! Anyway! Everyone’s waiting! Our tent’s this way.” The two of you trail after her. It’s a bright, sunny day. She stops at a perfectly-set-up tent, no doubt the handiwork of herself and Eugene Hall. She throws open the flaps and ducks inside. “I found ‘em!” she declares. You immediately go to follow her. But before that, you glance over your shoulder. 

“Come on, Sev!” you take him by the hand and lead him inside. When you step through the doors, the tidy, decorated tent is massive and sectioned off. There’s a living room, a kitchen, and a dining table. A record is on playing the soundtrack from “Grease”, and in one corner, there are four bedrooms. One has two bunk beds, the one next to it has three single beds, and the last two have double beds. 

“HELLO DARLINGS!” you sing-song. 

“Hi!” Renee says. She smiles softly and turns from where she had been scrubbing dishes. When she lets go the dishes continue scrubbing themselves. 

“Yo!” Cas says from their spot where they’re lounging on the couch. Eugene glances up from his armchair and the book he’s reading. 

“Afternoon.” he says, nodding, and then goes back to his book.

“Check, and mate, Mauve.” says Jeremy Jones. 

Then you hear an expletive, “FUCK! DAMMIT JEREMY!” It’s exaggerated, not angry. You glance up at Snape, who rolls his eyes. Then you look over at the table, where Jeremy Jones and Mauve Coleman are playing wizard chess, with Orion watching them. He shifts in his chair and you see the gold wedding band catch in the light coming through the window.

“Son! We have guests!” Eliza says, scolding. Mauve looks up to see you and Snape. 

“Shit—sorry Dad…” he says, “Ahem! Hello Kit, and good afternoon Professor Snape.”

“Hi!” you reply. The other two men greet you after him. 

Meanwhile, Eliza shakes her head and smiles. “Anyway.” she looks back at the two of you, “You can put your things in that room with the queen bed there. Stella volunteered to bunk with Jeremy, Cas, and Mauve so you and Severus could have the bed.” 

You briefly glance at the bottom bunk of one of the bunk beds. There are two cages on the floor next to it: a tank with a couple salamanders, and a cage full of nifflers. The room next to it with the three single beds is neat, no doubt been freshly cleaned by Orion and Eugene, and the third has a collapsed wheelchair next to it. The one with the double bed is even neater than the one before it. And finally, the fourth has not yet been inhabited. You step inside, “This is where we’ll be sleeping, Sev.” you say. You set the bag on the floor by the foot of the bed. He takes off his cloak and hangs it up on the bedpost, and you hang your flannel on the other side. 

“Now, these walls are made of canvas. They aren’t soundproof and Renee and I are right next to you.” Eliza says, “So behave. You’re not allowed to get frisky, Kitty.” 

You flush deep red, “We _know_ that!” you exclaim. 

“I wouldn’t _dare_ in a full house like this one.” Snape huffs, “I have decency, thank you very much Miss Forrester.” 

“Good!” she chuckles and then leaves, crossing towards the kitchen, “Do you need any help Renee, darling?” she asks. 

“Yes please, can you get me the ladle and pot from over there?”

“Certainly~” 

Once she’s gone, Severus looks at you and says, “You told me they were odd but I never thought they’d be this odd. You fit right in with them.” 

“Thanks, I know!” you say, “Welcome to the Ebbott Bunch, Sev.” You leave him awkwardly standing in the room as you go out to greet your friends. When you rejoin him and then cross to the living room, you meet eyes with Cas.

“You can sit down.” they say. They move from lounging to sitting so that you two can make yourselves comfortable. 

“Thank you!” you start to move to the couch, “Come on, love~” you say to Snape. He does and you scoot into his side, shoulders brushing. In that moment, Renee whisks into the room. 

“Would either of you like anything to drink?.” 

“Sure! I’ll have some iced tea.” you say, “Will you have anything, darling?” you look at Severus.

“The same thing, please.” he says. 

“Okay!” Renee smiles and then turns back to the kitchen area, “Eliza, dearest, can you please get two iced teas?” 

“On it!” she replies. 

“Thank you, I love you!” 

Renee sits down on the unoccupied chair with her glass of water, “How are you?” she asks. 

“Good, good!” you reply cheerfully, chest swelling with happiness. 

“I’m glad. And what about you Professor Snape?” she asks, looking at him. 

“Just fine.” he replies curtly. 

“I have iced tee-eeea~” Eliza’s piercing and lovely soprano sing-songs. She approaches you on the sofa, with the ice clinking against the glass. She hands you each a cold cup of freshly brewed tea.

“Thank you, hon~” you reply. 

“Of course~” She sits down on the arm of Renee’s chair. 

You look around the tent, “We’re missing two.” you say. 

“Yeah.” Eliza replies, “Damo’s with his team, but he’s coming over for lunch. And Stella, she went off to do stars knows what. But I’m sure she’ll pop in. 

“Oy!” says a raspy voice, and then sparkling eyes on a freckled face framed with lavender hair pokes in through the doorway, “Did anyone see a salamander with a smoking back come in here? I was trying to cool them down with the freezing charm but they ran away before I could.” 

“No, sorry. No one’s seen Chili.” Renee replies.

“Yeah, but Sugar was looking for gold in the flour again.” Eliza scoffs, “You really ought to keep a sharper eye on those nifflers.” 

“Oh yeah, I should do that—oh! Hi Kit! Hi Severus!” she says, noticing you at last, “Anyway, I would stop and chat more, but I’ve got a smoking salamander to find. Catch you laters~” and she pops back out and disappears. 

A few chuckles erupt from the group and Snape turns to you with a “Wtf” look. He furrows his brow and mouths “What the hell…?” 

“That’s basically Stella for you.” Eugene says, shaking his head. 

“Should someone go help her look for her salamander?” Mauve asks the group. No one answers so everyone looks at you.

“What do you think, Kit?” asks Eliza, “She’s your best friend, you know ‘er best.” 

“I think…she’s already halfway across the campsite by now and we’ll spend more time looking for her so we can help her find her salamander than for the actual salamander.” you say, “And then by the time we do find her, Chili will be safe in their cage again.” 

“Aha!” exclaims a voice from outside, although it’s kind of distant. And then you hear skipping and humming and she appears just moments later with a tiny and content spotted blue lizard in her hands, “I’ve found the Chili!” 

And then Snape says, “Charming…” in a sarcastic drawl. Stella whisks into the tent with a flourish and goes into the bedroom with the bunk beds, and then she puts Chili with the two other salamanders, one green one, and one red and black one. 

“There! Back with Red and Peppers.” she says, then closes the tank, “Ah!” she dusts her hands, “Everyone’s alright now. Oh wait!” she goes to the cage next to the salamander tank and counts the number of nifflers in there. “Good news! Sugar, Cinnamon, Ginger, Spice, Paprika, and Houdini are all in here!” she declares. 

“You know, I still find it hilarious that Houdini is the only niffler of yours that hasn’t managed to break out of the cage.” Eliza says. 

“He’s the best behaved of all of them.” she says. 

“Are there anymore wayward creatures we need to be looking for?” Snape asks, “Any spiders perhaps? Singing toads? An owl? Dragons?” 

“Nope! My mum is taking care of all of them. As well as the two cats, a kneazle, a….(insert a list of any magical creatures you can think of), and the snake hatchlings. I only brought eight pets with me this time.” she replies. 

“Professor Snape, considering that she usually brings more than a dozen, we should feel lucky.” Eugene informs. 

Snape gives you another “wtf” look. 

“She excelled in Care of Magical Creatures.” You say.

“Mmm hmm!” Stella replies, beaming, “I’ve made a career out of studying them. I’ve found out so many fascinating things!” 

“Yeah! It’s brilliant!” you add on, “She’s published a number of books.” 

“Mmm hmm. My most popular ones are my anthologies with niffler stories, and the ones about the psychology of different magical beasts.” 

“Now that’s something I’ve never heard.” Snape says, actually sounding the slightest bit impressed for once in his life, “And what about the rest of you, then?” he asks. 

“Cas, Orion, and I are aurors.” Eliza says. 

“I work for the department of Magical Law enforcement.” Renee says, “In the improper use of magic office.” 

“I build brooms.” continues Eugene, “Granted, I’m still an apprentice, but I’m always trying to customize and improve broom technology, particularly.”

“Jeremy and I manage the coffee shop in Hogsmeade.” Mauve furthers.

“…And we’re also champions of wizard gaming tournaments. Which we host every Tuesday night.” Jeremey adds. 

“And of course, Damocoles is a professional quidditch player and I’m a teacher!” you end at last. 

For a moment Severus gives you a “no shit Sherlock” look, before a smug smirk tugs slightly at the corner of his mouth. You feel yourself already getting irritated, because you know you’ve just paved the way for…

“A teacher?” Severus repeats, “I wouldn’t have guessed that, it isn’t as though we’re coworkers or anything.” 

…You’ve paved the way for him to be a bloody smart arse. There’s a few sniggers. 

You playfully hit his arm, “Oh shut it, you! I was trying to be funny!” Your friends all find your flustered state amusing. You flush scarlet and glare. 

Just then, the front entrance flies open, and with a gust of wind, in flies a young man on a perfectly polished broom. He hovers a few inches above the ground. 

“Hello loves!” he exclaims. 

“Damocoles!” you exclaim. 

“Ya made it!” Eliza declares. 

Damocoles is dark-haired and olive skinned. He has a bright smile and mischievous eyes.. His uniform is tied at his waist, and there’s sweat on his forehead from getting in a bit of morning warm-up. On his bare, well-toned shoulder, he proudly wears a tattoo of the Celtic symbol for “Perseverance”.

“Hey Kit,” he says, smiling, “And Professor Snape, good to see you too.”

Severus nods curtly, “Mr. Smith.” 

“You’re just in time for lunch.” Renee says, “It’s ready, so how about we all set the table and eat?”

Everyone agrees with this, so you all parade to the back of the tent and work together using your wands to perfectly set everything. Then, you gather around for a loud and cheerful meal. You watch as Damocoles lowers his broom to level with the chair and scoots himself onto the pillow. Then he flicks his wand to scoot the chair in and props the broom against the table. 

-xXx-

“So, Severus~” Eliza drawls, looking right at him. He’s stayed relatively quiet throughout the whole table conversation, besides for chiming in his sarcastic two cents occasionally, “Ya stole Kit from us for the summer, whadaya have to say for yourself?” she jokes. 

“I stole Kit from you?” he echoes, “I think a more appropriate phrase would be “swept them off their feet”.” He’s thankfully picked up on the joke, and he’s trying his utmost to respond accordingly. 

“Swept…heh. ‘Cuz we’re wizards and we have brooms.” Orion chimes in. You all turn to look at him. 

“I think we got the punchline, Orion.” Eliza scoffs. 

“Sev-er-us!” you groan, “Why!? Not you too…! I already hear enough from these idiots,” you emphasize Eliza, Cas, Renee, and Orion, “I don’t need more from you.” 

“I’m sorry.” he says. You look up at him with hopeful eyes and everyone around the table is taken aback. “…I’ll be sure to make a mental note of it on my list of “things to say when I want to fluster you.””

“You bloody prat, I hate you!” you exclaim, burning with irritation. 

Damocoles laughs. 

“Oh, shut it!” you exclaim. 

“No, you don’t though.” 

“…You’re right...” 

Your group laughs. 

“He is definitely your type.” Renee comments, “Anyway. Back to the original conversation. Honestly, Severus, we’re glad you let Kit stay with you. Better than have them go back home. Thank you for that.” Her eyes are full of gratitude. 

“From here on, I have every intention of them spending every summer and every holiday in Spinner’s End with me.” he says, before he turns to look at you, “…If they want, anyway.” 

“Of course, I do!” you exclaim. 

“But we’ve missed them!” Damocoles says, “Have you been taking care of them?” he studies him quizzically, almost skeptically. 

“I have.” he replies earnestly. 

“We take care of each other like a good couple should!” you add. You take a bite of food and a sip of iced tea. 

“That’s good!” Stella declares. She drops her fork in excitement. The clatter echoes through the tent, “Oopsy!” She picks it back up, “I’m fine~” 

“Better keep that up.” Eliza says, “Taking care of each other.” 

“Well obviously.” Snape says.

“We’re together! Everything will be fine!” you add optimistically. 

-xXx-

You spend the rest of the day catching up, playing games, and spending time together. Eventually, Damocoles has to leave to go back to his team. Within a couple hours following, it starts to get dark, and soon, you’re bundled up and headed to the stadium for the match. While you’re in line, chuckling and laughing, you hear the murmur of familiar voices. 

“Look, it’s Professor Snape, and Professor Oakley!” That sounds just like Ginny Weasley. 

You turn to see Harry, Hermione, the Weasleys, and Cedric Diggory and his father. You smile your beaming smile, which lights up your face and you wave, “Hello, dears!” From beside you, Severus rolls his eyes and doesn’t acknowledge them. 

But still, Harry and the others smile and wave back, before they disappear in the crowd. 

“You’re such a sweet teacher~” Eliza purrs. 

“Thanks, I try to be.” you reply. 

“Our seats are up this way~” Renee cuts in, “Come on~ Please don’t get lost in the crowd.” 

-xXx-

The match starts with the familiar fantastic spectacle and loud screaming of fans. When you see Damocoles, all of you shout his name and words of encouragement. Adrenaline and excitement pumps through your veins as you watch the intense and evenly matched teams pitted against each other. Next to you, Eliza is calling out fighting words, and Stella is shoving her face with popcorn. 

-xXx-

“…And another incredible defense by beater Damocoles Smith! This is proving to be an exciting and close game folks~” 

“WHOOO HOOO!” Stella cheers. 

“GOOOOO DAMOCOLES!” you scream, rattling your pom-poms and posing. 

“KEEP KICKING THEIR ARSES, DAMO! SHOW NO MERCY!” Eliza adds. 

“…Don’t get hurt…” Renee says softly. 

Damocoles’ next bludger sails over your heads, and barrels directly into one of the Bulgarian players, sending them spiraling towards the floor of the stadium.

“Ooo, shit.” Mauve says, “That’s gotta be excruciating…”

“Good job Damo!” Orion exclaims, “Keep it up, mate!” 

-xXx-

The match ends with Ireland’s scraping win of ten points. And you all leave full of laughs and excitement, loudly discussing the amazing game that has just unfolded. You can’t wait to see Damo tomorrow, to congratulate him. 

Back in the tent, you, Renee, and Stella continue talking excitedly, with Eliza and the others chiming in too. After calming down, you plop down on the couch. 

“Damn! What a rush.” you sigh, “If Muggle sports were that fun, I’d actually care about them~ who needs football when you’ve got Quidditch?” 

“I know, right?” Stella agrees. 

“Who wants dessert?” Renee asks, “Stella made butterbeer ice cream!” A murmur of agreement fills the tent. 

-xXx-

You’re all eating ice cream, when suddenly, chaos and terrified screams sound off in the distance outside. Immediately, it destroys the mood. From beside you, Severus goes rigid. 

And then Eliza says, “We need to leave!” 


	2. Aftercare

II. Aftercare

Screams and chaos echo outside, as people stampede to safety. There’s a riot that has broken out at the campsite, and an aura of panicked dread suffocates the acrid, smoky air. 

“What’s going on!?” Damocoles is hovering and shouting over everything as the commotion and terror progresses, while everyone is fleeing the area. 

“Death Eaters!” Eliza spits, “It’s a riot! They’re after muggles and muggle-borns!”

Your stomach twists, your head feels woozy. You want to hurl. Burning bile bubbles in your throat. 

“Hurry! We need to go!” You feel Severus stiffen beside you, and his grip on your arm tighten. 

“Eugene, Renee, get the others to safety! Orion, Cas, with me! We have to join up with the other aurors!”

She’s parading everyone out of the tent, trying to control the panic that is rising in her chest. She’s counting under her breath, shoving everyone along. 

“Severus, Kit, come on!” she exclaims. You try to follow, but Severus grabs you, obscuring your vision when his body envelopes you and he turns his back to the door. He holds onto you for dear life. 

“Wait, what are you doing!? Let go! My fam-” you yelp, you squirm and fight and scream, panic churning in your chest and bile burning your throat, as your breath quickens. But he won’t let go, “ELIZA!” you shriek. Her piercing blue eyes are the last thing you see as the scene rapidly begins to blur. There’s a familiar rush of energy and a burst of wind, and you’re disapparated from the scene. 

-xXx-

You appear again in front of the house on Spinner’s End. You yank yourself from his grasp, glaring daggers and fighting tears.

“Severus what did you just do!? My family is back there! Take me back right now! We can’t just leave them beh-“ 

“They’ll be fine! There’s nine of them, three of which are aurors! You and I both know they’re skilled, they’ll escape! You’ve known them for nearly twenty years, TRUST THEM! I got you out of there, that’s all that matters! As a mu—a muggle-born, you’re a target! And I had to protect you, don’t you get that!?” 

“Yeah? Well Renee, Mauve, and Orion are too! And back there, they’re in more danger than anyone else! TAKE ME BACK!” your voice strains. 

“I. Will. Not!” he stands firm. He’s clenching his trembling fists at his sides and grinding his teeth. His face is deathly pale, and his eyes are wide. His brows are furrowed and his face is twisted. He looks sick. 

“Severus…” immediately you soften up. You process what he’s just said, about trusting that your friends are going to be okay. He was right. You had to trust them. You did trust them. You knew they were strong, that they would be okay. You knew they’d be relieved you’d gotten out. And you couldn’t be mad at Severus. He was only trying to protect you, after all. 

“Don’t you see?” his voice softens, “They’ve probably made it out by now. But if I take you back to that riot, there’s a chance you will be killed! I will not let that happen to someone I care for again!” His breathing is shaky, and he’s still trembling. Your anger is burned away at these words. 

“Okay, Severus…okay…okay…” you try to steady your breathing as you approach him slowly. You press your face to his rapidly pounding heartbeat. His tense arms wrap you tightly, and you feel his chin upon the top of your head. “I’m here. I’ll stay right here. I won’t go anywhere…” you reassure, “I’m sorry…I love you…” Upon your soft words, you slowly feel his trembling body stop it’s shaking, and the rigid tenseness in his figure fade. 

-xXx-

The next morning you receive a phone call. It’s Eliza, and you’re overwhelmed with relief. 

_ “The group got out just fine, no thanks to Professor Snape,” _ she scoffs,  _ “I’m glad he got you out, but it was downright shitty for him to leave the rest of us like that. I can’t imagine how panicked you must have been.” _

“I was, but I believed in my family. In the back of my mind I knew you could make it.” you reply, “Was anyone hurt?”

_ “Not really. A few cuts and bruises, and a hell of a lot of panic. We ended up staying at Stella’s place last night. She baked cookies and made cocoa at 3 o’clock in the morning for us. All of us are pretty fucked up about it mentally though.” _ she finishes. 

“Me too…I’m just glad you’re okay.”

_ “So am I. I’m relieved to hear from you.”  _

You draw in a breath, “Listen…please, y-you can’t be too harsh on Severus about this.” You look down. He’s asleep on his stomach, with the bedclothes sliding off his bare, pallor back. Your tank top slides off one shoulder when you reach over to run your hand through his hair, trailing it down between his shoulders to rub circles on his back, “H-he was just as panicked and scared as the rest of us...he was only trying to protect me…” 

_ “Yeah. I know.” _ she says _ , “I get that. We won’t hold it against him. Had he just left without you though, he’d be in major fucking trouble with us.”  _

You chuckle weakly, “I know.” Beside you, Severus begins to stir, “I’m going to come by Stella’s later, to check on everyone. Will you all still be there?”

_ “Yeah. We plan on it. Most of us, anyway.”  _

“Alright. I’ll be there as soon as I can. But I need to take care of my boyfriend first.” 

_ “Yeah, absolutely. Take your time, Kit. We love you.” _

“I love you all too, Lyze.” you hang up the phone. After that, you look down at your lover again. A single, sleepy dark eye, and the tip of a pointy nose peaks out from behind the curtain of stringy hair, a pale arm, and a fluffy green pillow. 

You adjust your body so you’re lying beside him. You turn on your side, propping yourself up on one arm. You brush a strand of hair behind his ear and smile sadly. 

“How are you feeling this morning, love?” you ask softly, rubbing his arm. 

“I could be worse…” his voice is slightly muffled. He rolls onto his back and shields his eyes from the sunlight with his right arm. You pull yourself onto his chest and give him a soft, gentle kiss on the lips, which he reciprocates. 

“Do you want me to make you a cup of tea and a spot of breakfast?” you ask.

Instead of the usual light-hearted, “You aren’t touching my kitchen”, he just says: “No. I’m not hungry.” 

“Well, okay. Would you rather just lay here for a bit, then?” you ask. 

“Yes.” he replies. So, you adjust yourself, tucking your head under his chin, curling into his side, and placing a hand on his heartbeat. His right arm finds its way around your back. He places the bandaged one behind his head, and lays there with his solemn eyes gazing up at the ceiling enchanted with a galaxy full of zodiac constellations. 

“Severus…” you begin breathily, “I’m sorry I got upset with you last night…I was so…so scared…I panicked, I…” 

“So did I.” he says. 

“My friends are all okay,” you continue, “I got a call from Eliza this morning. They’re not going to hold what you did against you. And neither will I. You saved me. You were looking after me just like you’re supposed to. And today I’m yours to do the same. However…I have to visit my friends later. Just for a bit. An hour or two. To check on them. Then I’ll come right back home to you.” 

“I’m going with you.” he says. 

“Okay. That’s fine. It would mean a lot to us.” you say. You kiss him again. His hand briefly runs up and down your arm. You draw circles on his chest. 

-xXx-

You lay in bed for a bit longer, before you make a suggestion, “Why don’t we take a bath?” you suggest, “I’ll wash your hair. And your back. I’ll make us some tea…and we can light those candles you like, I’ll put a record on. No sex…just trust.” You study his sorrowful dark eyes. 

“…I’ll draw the water…” he says. 

“Sounds perfect.” you say. 

-xXx-

It smells like lavender in your bathroom. The lights have been dimmed, and there’s two near-empty cups of tea on the stool next to the tub, with a bowl of sugar between them. There’s a pile of dirty clothes on the floor that have yet to be tossed in the hamper. A vinyl spins on your record player, playing gentle instrumental music. 

There’s a slosh of water as you move forward, and he adjusts himself. He’s leaning slightly against you, with his head bent towards his chin. His arms are crossed over his shoulders, one of which still has a tightly bound bandage. He has one knee bent out of the water, exposed to the slight chill of the room. His breathing is steady and soft. Your sudsy fingers run through his hair. When you’re through, you have him cover his eyes while you pour water over the stringy black locks to rinse them out. When that’s finished, he slides into the water slightly, and leans against you, with his cheek resting under your chin, and you massage his shoulders, neck, and chest. 

* * *

For the few weeks left of the summer holiday, he goes quiet, lethargic, and sad. He’s much snippier, but he won’t really tell you what’s wrong. Any time you try to ask, he says, “I’m fine, Kit, that riot just…” and he reassures you, murmuring words of love he asks you to keep between the two of you, or he distracts you, with affection and sex. 


	3. Privacy Please

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: SEXUAL CONTENT AHEAD.
> 
> There is sexual content at the end of this chapter, which will be indicated with an "Ahem" as I said in the last update. You're absolutely welcome to skip it if that's not something you want to read, it doesn't really add much to the plot.

III. Privacy Please

The night of the welcome feast is pouring down rain. It had been pouring all day. When Hagrid and the first years enter the hall for the sorting, they’re soaking wet and terrified, and your heart goes out to them. 

“They look like drowned rats.” Snape says from beside you. You put down your glass of pumpkin juice, paying no mind to the fact that you’ve gotten the slightly sticky substance on your face, and turn to look at him. His expression is stoic and disinterested as usual. 

“Severus, that’s not very nice.” you comment, “It’s coming down it buckets out there, and they just had to cross the lake in boats. Poor things are freezing. Someone ought to get them in dry clothes before they all catch colds…”

“Kit, your mouth is orange.” Severus says dryly, changing the subject. 

“I’m sorry?” 

Severus rolls his eyes. “You have pumpkin juice all over your face,” he says, “How do you manage this?...Pull yourself together, you’re a teacher, my stars…” He takes his cloth napkin and dips it in his water goblet. He holds your face steady by placing his fingers around your lower jaw and uses the cloth in the other to wipe the pumpkin juice away. A few students snigger and ogle at the house tables. You flush. You want to glare at them, but your face is turned towards Snape at the moment, so you can’t. 

“There.” he lets go and throws the napkin on the table. 

“Thanks~” you say, “But…” 

“But what?” he presses. 

“Students saw that…” you say softly, face flushing redder. He’s about to respond when McGonagall’s voice cuts in and the sorting ceremony begins. 

After that, Dumbledore begins his usual announcements. But he’s cut off when the door to the Hall bursts open and an old man covered in scars, with an unsettling and bulbous, flitting blue eye hobbles in with a cane and a prosthetic leg. You recognize the famous auror immediately as Alastor “Mad-Eye” Moody. He was retired and rumored to be paranoid and mad as a hatter these days. The very sight of him sends a shudder down your spine. But yet, in the back of your mind, you knew your Auror friends idolized him, so surely, he couldn’t be that bad, could he? 

Dumbledore introduces him as the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, and everyone else is too unsettled by him to applaud, so the only applause he gets is from Dumbledore and Hagrid. However, he remains indifferent to the lack of enthusiasm and takes a long swig from his flask instead of the glass of pumpkin juice offered to him. Then, he sits down in the empty seat next to Dumbledore. 

“I don’t need to ask you not to go off philandering with this one, do I?” Snape teases. 

“Be quiet, Severus.” he smirks smugly as you get all flustered. 

“You know I won’t. He’s old and scary, and I’m taken, you prat!” you exclaim. 

You hear Dumbledore clear his throat and he continues with what he was saying before Moody burst in. 

That night, it is revealed that Hogwarts is hosting the Triwizard Tournament. It was a friendly competition between the three largest wizarding schools in Europe: Hogwarts, Durmstrang, and Beauxbatons. One champion from each school would be selected to compete in three dangerous tasks, and whoever won would receive eternal glory for their school, a thousand galleons prize money, and a trophy for their success. 

You’re ecstatic but incredibly nervous because you know that people die in this tournament. You’d be watching promising youth risk their lives for eternal glory. It was a silly thing to die for in your opinion. 

This year, though, a new rule had been put into place that said that no one under seventeen could compete. The students were not happy about this, but this slightly lifted your uncertainties about it. (Although you still weren’t very keen on the danger level of this competition). But yet, at the same time, the idea of the event still enveloped you with adrenaline and excitement. 

The other schools would be joining Hogwarts in October, and the drawing for the champions would be held on Halloween night. The rest of the year would be spent teaching classes and watching the three tasks unfold. 

There was one more thing that came with the Triwizard tournament, and that was the Yule Ball. It was first and foremost a holiday dance. Last time there’d been a school dance, you’d been in the corner stuffing your face full of treats without a date. But with Severus as your partner now, you were guaranteed one. Although your dancing would need drastic improvement before it. You didn’t want to be stepping all over Severus’s feet and have him tease you, that was for sure. 

Dumbledore’s voice breaks into your thoughts. 

“…And now, it is late. I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime. Chop! Chop!” Dumbledore dismisses the students, and the ruckus of scraping and banging and thumping feet, as well as the loud garble of voices, fades as the students file out of the Hall and up to their dorms. 

Once they’ve gone, you and Severus opt to leave as well. You enter the staff common room, and then head up the stairs on the left side. You walk past your own dorm and follow him to his. You were sharing a dorm room now, because since you had basically been sharing a bed since summer started, it’d be much too difficult to sleep alone again. You two shamelessly change into your nightshirts in front of one another, (your night shirt is one of Severus’s button ups) and then you brush your teeth. After closing Jareth’s cage, you lay down in bed, nestled beneath the pillows and duvet. Severus double checks that all the alarms are set, the door is locked, and the window is closed. You hear the rustle of the covers, and then feel the mattress dip beside you. You roll over into him and he pulls you into his chest. You entangle your limbs for your usual “honeymoon hug”. Lily jumps up soon after, curling up into a fluffy ball near the small of his back. 

He kisses your head, and then your lips. 

“Goodnight,” he says. He reaches for his wand on the nightstand, and with a flick, he puts out all the candles. You sigh contently and nuzzle his neck. 

“Goodnight, darling.” you murmur. And you close your eyes, enveloped in warmth, listening to the pattering rain against the glass window, and the soft breathing in the quiet. You embrace the closeness, falling asleep in security. 

* * *

You’re rudely awoken by a screaming alarm. The bed is cold beside you, and the warmth of his body is gone. You roll over on your stomach and toss a pillow over your ears. _No. It’s too early. The day isn’t important…sleep…_

“Get up, Kit.” Snape says gruffly, shaking your shoulder, “Or we’ll be late for breakfast.” 

“Who- n’ds break’f’st…” you slur sleepily. You're met with cold air on bare legs when the covers are pulled from your body. You curl up in a tight ball. “Nooo…” 

“I’ve let you sleep long enough. Wake up and get dressed,” he says sternly. He paces around the room for a second. 

“Five more minutes.” you say. 

A pillow collides with your back. You groan sleepily. “Not happening.” he says. 

“Severus you’re mean…lemme sleep...” you protest. 

“This is no time for games, Kit Oakley.” he retorts, “We have to be down to breakfast in fifteen minutes.” 

You huff and roll on your back, spreading your arms like a starfish and blinking your eyes heavily before your vision focuses on a boring ceiling. But a face casts a shadow on it, and you’re met with dark eyes and a protruding nose. 

“Good, you’re awake. Now out of bed. Quickly.” 

“Help me up.” you say, reaching for him. He rolls his eyes, tugging you by the arms to a sitting position. Once you are sitting up, you lean in for a quick morning kiss, before you yawn, stretch, get up, and lumber into the bathroom. You splash your face with cold water, brush your teeth, change your undergarments, and do your business, before walking back out to the wardrobe with your nightshirt unbuttoned. 

When you’ve come back, you discover that he’s made the bed, fed the animals, and now stands by the door, fully clothed, with his arms crossed and waiting, tapping his fingers against his sleeve. You sift through your robes and take out your signature yellow ones. You toss them on the bed and shrug out of your pajamas, which you throw into a ball on the duvet. You wrestle into your stockings, trousers, and blouse. You button up your waistcoat and then throw your robes on over all that, leaving them open and flowy. You run a hand through your hair, grab your matching hat, plunk it on, and slip into your favorite pair of shoes. Next, you grab your leather arm guard and tie it in place. 

Once that’s done, you turn to face Jareth, who’s cage is open. You hold out your arm and click your tongue. He hops from his perch and flies to you, landing on your gloved hand, and you grasp him around the talons to hold him steady. 

“Ready!” you declare. 

“Let’s go, then.” He turns and whisks out of the room, hair swinging when he does. You follow in your bouncy stride. That morning over your light breakfast, you chat casually with Professor Sinistra about horoscopes. And then, it’s time to head off to your classes for the day. You feel a little upset, because this is the first time you and Severus will be apart for most of the day. 

Evidently, he can sense this. “It’s not as though we’re never going to see each other again.” he scoffs. 

“I know.” you say, “But I’ll still miss you nonetheless.” 

“I’m sure you can last until lunch.” he says, rolling his eyes. 

“Of course, I can. I’m not _that_ clingy.” you reply.

You’re walking down the corridors, which are quiet, and vacant, as the students have already hurried off to their classes. At the top of the stairs leading to the dungeons, you stand on your toes to kiss Severus goodbye, before turning back around and skipping off to the theatre on the other end of the castle, a few floors up. 

-xXx-

Although it is called the theatre now, it had previously been an old and unused ballroom. Heavy drapes had been placed over the windows so that they would block out the sunlight streaming in and allow the stage to be the primary focus. The curtains, however, were currently pulled back to let the sunshine in. The rays glinted off the gold finish of the old chandelier and brightened the fabric chairs. The curtains on stage were open, and the wood floor had been beautifully polished. 

The murmur of voices fills the echoey room, as the students were already gathered. You burst through the stage doors and saunter up on stage with a flourish. Jareth leaves your arm in a flurry of feathers, and flies to the perch on stage left, sitting himself on it obediently. 

“GOOD MORNING, DARLINGS!” you sing-song, “Welcome to Theatre 4!” You stop at center stage twirling about and then you clap your hands. In response, the stage is illuminated with light. 

“GOOD MORNING PROFESSOR OAKLEY!” the chorus replies. 

“Now then! As soon as I get the syllabus passed out, we can begin our exciting year of spectacle and magic performance!” 

A hand goes up in the air. You call on the student. 

“Professor,” she says, “Are you and Professor Snape seeing one another? As in…dating?” 

You blush lightly, “Well, yes, as a matter of fact we are.” A few students cheer and talk excitedly. One or two of the girls squeal. A couple boys high-five each other and the girls nearest to them. 

“Oh! I knew it! I just _knew_ it. See, I told you!” declares a Slytherin proudly. 

“Alright, alright! Simmer down, dears!” you exclaim, _My goodness, I didn’t know this was such a subject of school-wide gossip, were we_ **_that_ ** _obvious!?_ “Please, no more questions on the matter. And don’t make a massive deal about it. Professor Snape doesn’t take kindly to others being in his personal business, as you all know…Now then! Back to the subject of the class, shall we?” 

The murmur fades to silence and all eyes fixate upon you. 

Lunch cannot arrive quick enough for you, and when it does, you’re excitedly making your way to the staffroom to meet up with Severus. When you get there, you insist on hugging and kissing him like you haven’t seen each other in ages, even though it had only been a couple hours. 

You whip up some tea, and then sit down with salad to eat. Then, the two of you begin conversing. 

“Did _your_ students ask about our relationship status?” Snape questions. 

“They did. And I told them the truth, but I also told them not to make a big deal about it…” you reply, flushing. 

“Yes, and that went over _brilliantly_.” he says exasperatedly, “I had never had so many students giggling and ogling at me like idiots in any other classes I’ve ever taught.” 

“Well, it’s no secret, though, is it?” you ask, “I mean, the whole school knew before we even knew ourselves…” then you feel your stomach do a sudden turn, “…Did you want it to be kept secret?”

“I never said that. But it’s irritating the students can’t just let it alone,” he replies. He takes a bite of salad and a swig of whatever is in the goblet next to him. 

“Oh Severus, most of them are at that age where romance and…other things (you blush) are almost always on their minds. It’ll be the subject of gossip for a couple of weeks, then they’ll lose interest and let us alone. I’ve already told my students that I will not answer any questions on the matter, and I don’t think they’d dare approach you with them.” 

“They’d better not.” he says icily, “It’s none of their bloody business what we do together and behind closed doors.” His cheeks flush with a bit of dusty pink, “Nor is it their business if we’re together or not.” 

“I’m sorry I told them, Severus. But, my returning students…they asked so I was honest.” you say. 

“Well, it can’t be helped now, can it?” he replies. 

“Are you...ashamed of us or something…?” you ask shyly.

“I’m not!” he exclaims, but then his voice softens, “I just hate all of the attention it’s drawing to us. I’m a private person, Kit, you know that. Our relationship is of no concern to the students.”

“They’re just happy for us, is all. They think it’s…cute.” you say, “They don’t mean any harm. But don’t worry. I swear to you if they try to ask, I won’t go into any specific details. I’ll just leave it at “we’re in a relationship and that’s that.” Trust me, I don’t want them poking their noses into it either. I suffered too much humiliation from being in the “limelight” with my last one…” you trail off. 

“Good. Our relationship is our concern and our concern alone.” he says, “A bond between the two of us that no one else can share in.” _Translation: You’re special to me. And I don’t want to share our experience with anyone else but you._

You smile softly, “Of course.” He leans over the table and kisses your head. Your chest swells and your heart flutters. 

After the first day of lessons, office hours, and dinner, the two of you are too tired for sex, so you spend the evening curled up on the sofa cuddling and sharing a blanket instead. You listen to your records with warm drinks in your hands, humming along to the quiet old tunes. 

-xXx-

You’re dozing off when you notice the arm he keeps wrapped in bandages has suddenly grown strangely hot. He moves it from where it is around your shoulder, hissing in pain, and grimacing. 

“Severus?” you ask, “Are you okay? What’s wrong with your arm?” 

“Nothing. I spilled some potion on it this morning during a demonstration. The chemical reaction is causing it to burn a bit.” 

“Oh dear! Sev, you ought to be more careful with your magical ingredients~ Do you want me to go and grab something from the medicine cabinet for it?” you ask.

“No. You stay here. I’ll go and get it.” He gets up and goes into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. While you wait, you stand to stretch your legs, and you go and pick up Lily from the bed, cuddling her in your arms, twirling slowly about the room to “A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square”, humming along. 

When you hear Severus come back into the main part of the flat, you put Lily back on the bed, where she lies down on her side, and closes her eyes. 

“I saw that,” he says dryly. 

“Jealous?” you tease. 

“That you were dancing with my cat instead of me?” he says, “No. I’m amused.”

You smile, but it’s cut off with a yawn. 

“Tired?” he asks. 

“A bit.” you say, “I think I’m going to go for a shower…I would ask you to join me, but you’ve already had yours.” 

“Ask me this weekend.” he purrs. You feel giddy and your insides heat up. 

“Alright~” you say, “Will you be in bed when I get out?” 

“Most likely.” he replies. 

“Okay~ I’ll see you in a bit, then, love.” You pick up your pajama shirt from where it’s folded on the duvet, grab a pair of fresh undergarments from the drawer, and then vanish into the bathroom. 

* * *

**_Ahem._ **

It’s Saturday evening. He’s sitting up in the middle of your bed, and you’re behind him, on your hands and knees, with your hands sinking into the mattress as you crawl towards him. You press lightly into his back, before getting up on your knees and resting your chin on his shoulder. Your robe slides off one of your own. Your wandering hands travel to his starched white shirt and unbutton the rest of the buttons so it’s completely open. They slide down his shoulders and slowly massage his torso. You bend over his back, leaning in close. You press a soft, deliberate kiss to his neck. He tilts his head and turns slightly towards you. Your lips brush as you continue to run your hands across his chest’s warmth. 

“How about that shower you promised me, Severus?” you murmur. You feel his hot breath on your face, his eyes partially closed. You pull away slightly as you shrug out of your robes and undo some of your own buttons. 

He shrugs out of his shirt completely, leaving it in a heap in the bed. He looks at you with sultry eyes. 

“Go and start the water and I will.” he says. You hop up eagerly and feel the bottom half of you start to tighten excitedly. 

“Of course.” you say. You turn and start to make your way to the bathroom. 

“Kit?”

You glance over your shoulder. “Yes, darling?”

“I want you naked when I get in there.” He purrs. 

You smile sweetly, “I will be.” You turn again, just as he swings his legs over the edge of the bed to get up. 

-xXx-

Inside the bathroom, you turn on the water to a hot but not scalding temperature as you start to undress, throwing your clothes in the hamper. You take out towels and adjust the dressing gowns hanging on the back of the door, before pulling some fresh washcloths from under the sink and hanging them in the shower. Slowly, the humidity begins to rise, and the small bathroom grows steamy with hot, moist fog, putting a flush on your body. You open the curtain, and step inside. You close it behind you and go under the stream. The water hits your back and shoulders and drenches your hair.

You hear footfalls padding against the floor. The door opens, and then closes. You hear it bolt. There’s a scrape of metal when Severus whips the curtain open. He’s already stripped himself down to his skin, and he stands in front of you, thin, pale, and gorgeously nude, except for the wrap on his arm. He’s used a bit of spellotape to ensure it stays on. He looks right at you and gives you a once over.

“Are you going to move over, Kit? Or are you going to let me freeze out here?” he drawls. You back up slowly. He steps in under the jet stream so you’re standing chest to chest and face to face. You smile softly, and you watch as the water soaks his hair and plasters it to his face, drenching his body and shoulders. The heat gradually begins to turn his pallor skin red. You wrap your arms around his neck, and he bends down towards you, wrapping his arms around your waist. He pulls you into him. Drenched, hot bodies press together, and he captures your lips for a passionate kiss. 

You break away to breathe, panting and pressing your foreheads together. A smile parts your lips and his. You go in for another kiss. 

His hands slide down to grope your rear and back upper thighs. The heat inside you continues to rise. You break away to breathe. You hold each other, and gasp for air. Then moist, hot mouths fit perfectly together to continue the passion.

Accompanied by dancing tongues, he guides your body to the wall. Gooseflesh stands on end with the sudden cold of the tiles on your bare back. 

You part your lips to catch your breath again. He pulls your legs up to straddle him, and you wrap them around his hips, crossing your ankles. Wrapped around him like this, you feel his hot swell pressing against you. You kiss with steamy, deep passion, mist sticking to the sweat of your wet forms. The smacking of swollen flesh is drowned out by the stream of the shower pattering the floor of the tub. He lightly nips your bottom lip, tugging it with his teeth as he pulls away. You adjust your arms to wrap around his back and shoulders. One hand claws into him as his mouth trails from your jaw down to your neck. Your breath hitches as he latches onto your sweet spot, and you begin to moan as he tugs and sucks at it. 

“Ahh…darling…” you say breathily, “darling, yes…lovely…” you tighten your limbs around his, fingers scraping his back. He pulls away and finishes the love bite with the swipe of his tongue and a soft kiss. Your pulsating core tightens, goading him further.

He pulls you from the wall and then spins you around so that you’re under the showerhead this time. He pushes your legs apart, so you slide down into a standing position. He pulls one of your hands loose. Your fingers fold slightly, and he kisses your knuckles, smiling with his eyes. He then guides your hand down between his legs. 

“Go on. Touch me.” he says. You look down for a moment. Your fingers gently stroke him, before tightening your grip. His breath hitches. Keeping one hand firmly on his back, you start to prod, rub, and move your hand up and down along the tight skin. He welcomes the touches with his breathy gasps. The shower water patters against your back and the sound of it hitting the floor of the tub is only rivaled by the pleasure falling off his lips.

“…Faster…” he moans, “…Harder…oh yes…” 

The arousal gets progressively stiffer. He seizes your wrist and pulls it away. He sets your hand against his flushed thigh. He takes your other one from where it’s clutching onto his back and slides it down his side to mirror the position of the opposite one. You move them so that they’re gripping around his lower back and rear. He turns you both around so that he can stand underneath the shower. The water drips from his hair, and off of his nose. He looks at you through half-closed, seductive eyes, and then uses his fingers to trace a path from his neck down to his shaft. 

“I want to feel your lips everywhere I’ve just touched.” he says. You nod and start to pepper slow and deliberate kisses down the path he’s traced: His neck, his collar, his chest, his abdomen, his navel until you’re on your knees. You peck him down there with a kiss. You wrap your arms around him before you fasten your lips over him and start to taste him. His fingers tangle in your hair and keep you there as he bends into you. 

“Haaa…ahhhh…ohhh…nnnn…oh yes...”

His grunts and moans echo around the shower walls. You stop and gasp for breath, before taking him in your mouth again. 

“Ahhhh…ahhhh...ahhhh…haaaa…mmm, nnn…” 

You taste him until he’s crying out in ecstasy through breathy gasps. 

Then, he stiffens. Pulsations convulse through his entire bottom half. You pull away when a salty taste finds your tongue, and you let his love pour all over your front. 

You gasp for breath, shoulders heaving. His deep, heavy breathing fills the air, and his sides rapidly move up and down until he relaxes with his release. His hand runs through your hair and then he slides down to the floor of the tub, so you’re face to face. You wipe the elixir of love from your lips and you meet his gaze. He’s tired, and his face is flushed. His reddened skin sticks out from the mist, and his hair is plastered to frame his face. The water from the stream splashes onto his back and mists outward, lightly fluttering against your sweaty frame. He leans forward and purrs gently in your ear:

“…Excellent…” he places a soft, chaste kiss on your swollen lips, “Now lay back so I can reward you.” 

“Okay…” you say breathily, “Okay…” you lay down the best you can on the floor of the shower, propping yourself up against the slick wall. He climbs over you and peppers kisses all over your body, before reaching down and pressing, prodding, and massaging you between your legs. You grasp him around the neck and bend and curl into him. 

“Ahhh…mmmm…darling…haaa…” 

“Louder.” he purrs, “I’ve enchanted the walls, no one can hear you.” He continues to massage you. 

“Ohhh…nnnnn…Ahh! Severus…right there…stars…” 

“Scream for me.” his voice vibrates in your ear, “Call out my name. _Prove_ just how much you love me…” His touch becomes more vigorous. 

Your skin is very hot and very tight. You’re nearing your climax. 

“STARS…ahh, ahh…SEVERUS!”

“Louder.” The touching is violently fast now. 

“God yes…AHH, AHH! SEVERUS, SEVERUS…yes, darling…OH! SEVERUS, DARLING! DARLING…I’m going to…” your body goes rigid before the contractions ripple through you. You gasp, shoulders heaving, and you hold onto him tightly, tangling your fingers in his hair as the ripples continue, and gradually, gradually begin to slow down. He pulls away from you slightly and you curl yourself under his chin as you calm and release. Your whole body feels hot and sweaty, and your stress has faded. He kisses your forehead. 

“Severus…” you say breathily. Your arms are wrapped tightly around him, and you rest your head on his shoulder, and he holds you tightly. You grip each other firmly because you’re slippery from being drenched in hot water. 

“Don’t speak. Catch your breath, Kit.” he murmurs. He runs his fingers through your wet hair and rubs your back. Sweat and stickiness keep your torsos pressed together. 

Finally, he pulls away, “Now, let’s use the shower for what it’s meant for, and get cleaned up.” he murmurs. 

You nod. He stands and helps you up. You wash each other's body and hair. You stand there, letting him take the warm, soapy cloth and rub it all over your body and massage your hair with shampooed fingers. And you do the same to him. The water is cold once you’ve gotten out. You dry off with fluffy towels, and then you put on your dressing gowns. Then, you cozy up in bed. He has you in a sweetheart’s cradle, and you’re curled up in a ball in his side, drawing circles on the exposed “v” of his chest. With your other hand, you groggily turn the pages of his book for him. 


	4. Those Three Words

IV. Those Three Words

When it hits Friday, October 30th, the students are buzzing with excitement, running around, and talking in boisterous voices. The mood is light, and the evening is lovely.

Dying sunlight shines in through the dorm room windows, enveloping the room with a certain warmth. You’re sitting on the edge of Severus’s bed, organizing the nightstand drawer. He’s pacing the floor, checking the time on his pocket watch. 

“Kit,” he finally says. 

You glance over your shoulder, “Yeah?” 

“Are you finished yet?” he asks impatiently. 

“Nearly.” 

“Can you be done in five minutes?” he furthers. 

“Probably less than that.” You reply, “Why?” you raise a curious brow. 

He doesn’t answer directly. “You get five minutes. Then we’re getting our brooms and going for a quick flight. I want to show you something. You won’t want to miss this. A theatre brat like you will probably find the spectacle quite impressive.”

“Alright Sev, I’ll be quick~” you reply, interested in this thing he wants to show you. 

“Time is ticking.” You feel the mattress abruptly sink beside you as he flops down on the bed. You glance at him. He’s lying on his back, holding the watch up to the light, turning it while it glints, and watching the second hand move. 

“Are you actually doing this right now?” you tease. 

“I’m hopelessly bored, so yes.” 

You chuckle and shake your head. 

-xXx-

“Time’s up.” 

“Yes! I’ve beaten the clock by approximately three seconds!” you declare triumphantly. Severus pulls himself up into a sitting position, and then gets off the bed. 

“Wonderful. Three seconds is a proper milestone. You should get an award.” he says. You give him a look. A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. 

“Oh, shut it, you!” you say, playfully hitting his arm. You get up and bounce across the room with your light, quick steps and pick up your broom from where it’s propped up against the wall by the door. You hand Severus his, and then the two of you exit the dorm and head outside.

Once you’re outside, the two of you mount your broomsticks. 

“Try to keep up.” he teases. 

“I’m a faster flyer than you, Severus, and you know it, it won’t be a problem.” 

-xXx- 

The wind buffets your hair, as you fly around the towers and over the battlements, and across the courtyard, before you’re over the bridge, a little bit to the right, hovering above the mass of chipper students. 

He leads you so you’re above the water. 

“Keep an eye on that spot there.” he points. You follow his directions, looking at the large square marked by floating markers. 

“Any moment now.” And suddenly, with a great splash, a magnificent ship breaks the surface of the water, completely dry as if it hadn’t even touched it. The massive splash sends a mist towards you, and the cool drops kiss the bare skin of your arms and face. Your expression of awe is cut off when Severus taps your shoulder. You meet his gaze, he points a finger up, and then leans forward and pulls the broom upward. It climbs higher into the air. You follow. He stops, hovering high above the bridge and touching the clouds. 

And then, a beautiful carriage pulled by pegasi appears shining like the sun through the fluffy white clouds in the blue summer sky. It’s heading towards you. 

“Watch the draft,” he says, “Don’t fall.” 

“Brilliant…” _THIS IS YOUR IDEA OF SPECTACLE, SEVERUS SNAPE!? PUTTING US IN THE PATH OF A PEGASUS-DRAWN CARRIAGE!? DO YOU HAVE A DEATH WISH!?”_

You feel a slight tug on your sleeve, “Back up,” he says, “Or you will be in danger.” So, you lean back slightly, and you sit, keeping your eye on the carriage as it draws closer. You feel a blast of air, as it flies right past you. The draft sends your brooms back only just slightly, but not such a violent jerk you feel you’ll fall. The pelts of the horses shine in the afternoon sun, and the sunlight glints off the powder blue and gold finish. And a few beautiful young girls in blue wave at you from the window, smiles bright on their soft, warm faces. And then you watch the back of the carriage as it rears towards the castle. 

Your heart swells with excitement, and you turn to smile at Severus, face shining and beaming, “That was incredible! I’d never seen something so magnificent so up close before! It’s wonderful! If we would have stayed down there with the students, I wouldn’t have gotten a good view! It was a lovely spectacle! Thank you for dragging me out of our dorm to see it!” 

He opens his mouth to make a snarky comment...but then doesn’t, opting instead to lightly peck your cheek. You flush, and butterflies flutter in your stomach. You meet his gaze, and beam, a small smile crosses his lips. 

“I’ll race you back to the castle.” he says, and then he leans forward and whisks off.

“Severus! We didn’t even count down or say go!” you exclaim, whisking after him. When you get there, you find him standing in the courtyard. He’s leaning against the wall with his broom in one hand. 

“Took you long enough.” he says. 

“Pfft.” 

He offers you a hand to help you off your broom, which thumps softly to the grass when you’re no longer sitting on it. You bend down to pick it up. 

“Righto~” you say, “What should we do now?”

“Get into the Hall before we get caught up in a hoard of children.” he replies. 

“Good idea.” and so you whisk inside the doors. To keep up with his long strides, you skip beside him. 

-xXx- 

When you step inside, you find the Hall has been beautifully decorated with Hogwarts banners, and behind the High Table, is a massive tapestry bearing the Hogwarts Crest- the lion, the snake, the raven, and the badger all united around a beautifully calligraphed “H”. Four chairs have been added to the High Table, one for the head of each of the other schools, and two more for the coordinators of the event.

At dinner that night, Dumbledore introduces the two other schools- Madame Maxime and the ladies of the French Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, and Professor Igor Karkaroff, and the men of the Eastern European Durmstrang Institute. He also introduces Ludo Bagman, the head of sports, and Bartemis Crouch, of the ministry of magic, the coordinators. 

The students of Durmstrang march through the doors with Professor Karkaroff dressed in fine furs behind them. Among them is the Bulgarian seeker from the world cup, Viktor Krum. The ladies of Beauxbatons dance down the hall and up to the high table, with their Headmistress, Madame Maxime, a half-giant who was at least eleven feet tall. In your peripheral vision, you immediately notice that Hagrid appears to be smitten with her. So smitten, in fact, that his lack of focus causes him to accidentally stab poor Professor Flitwick with his fork on the back of his hand. You have to choke back laughter. 

Once introductions and formalities are over with, the students from the other two schools help themselves to the tables—the ladies of Beauxbatons at the Ravenclaw table, and the men of Durmstrang at the Slytherin table. 

Dumbledore also introduces the goblet of fire, which is where all of the name slips will be put into. On Halloween, the Goblet of Fire would be the one to decide who would be the champion from each school. 

At dinner, you find yourself shrinking under the gaze of Igor Karkaroff, a tall, thin, hard-faced man with curly, shoulder length hair, a short, ratty, graying beard, and cold blue eyes. He smiles, showing yellowed teeth when he lays eyes upon you, giving off an unsettling demeanor and falsified cheerfulness. You shift uncomfortably. When Severus sees this, he lightly touches your arm and acts as the wall between you. You try not to look at Karkaroff, but sometimes you still feel as though you’re shrinking under his icy eyes whenever he looks your way.

You’re relieved when he leads his students out and back to the ship. You find him intimidating as all hell, whereas you find Madame Maxime to have a certain peculiar beauty about her. 

At the end of dinner, Severus practically drags you back to your dorm as soon as he can escape the dinner table. You’re whisked off for an early turn in. Evidently, he’s as eager to get you away from Igor Karkaroff as you are. 

-xXx-

“What is with that man?” you ask, once you’ve gotten back to his room. You’re settled on top of his chest, arms folded in front of you so you’re lying on him but not jabbing him with your elbows. Your cheek is resting against his heartbeat. It’s relaxing to you, to just lie there and feel the gentle rhythm of it. He’s got one arm behind his head, and one resting idly on the small of your back.

“Karkaroff?” Snape confirms. 

“Yeah. He kept staring at me.” you say, “He reminds me of Rasputin- you know, that dark wizard from the Russian Revolution? The one that survived poisoning and shooting before he finally froze to death? I get an odd feeling from him…it’s discomforting. Of course, I’ll still respect him as a guest but…” 

“Regrettably, that distastefully egotistical man is an old acquaintance of mine.” Severus huffs, “Stay away from him.” 

Your stomach twists. 

He continues. “As long as I’m here, Karkaroff won’t touch you. And if he makes you uncomfortable, don’t hesitate to tell me.” 

You nod, “I will.” you give him a reassuring smile, and then rest your head on his chest again with a gentle sigh. His nightshirt is partially open, and you’ve moved one side of the collar so that your cheek is touching the warmth of his bare skin. You feel his chest swell up, rising, when he draws in a deep breath. It falls slowly when he exhales. 

You hum contently. His hand runs through your hair, around your shoulders, and down your back to rest where it was. The jazz record plays softly beside you, and the candlelight fills the room with a calming luminescence. There’s a lingering burnt smell, from an experiment earlier that evening. The taste of fruit tisane still lingers on your tongue. A certain tranquility envelopes you. You’re warm and secure, just lying here with him. You start to drift in and out of consciousness. 

“Kit.” his purr rumbles in the air again. You slowly raise your head and scoot up slightly, looking at him through groggy eyes. Your eyelids feel heavy. 

“Hmm?” 

He leans forward and presses a chaste kiss on your lips. He pulls away and gazes at you with his solemn pools. “Sleep well.” the words grace off his tongue. 

“You too.” You murmur.

-xXx-

It’s Saturday. And it’s Halloween. Excitement is buzzing in the air, and the students are already flitting about, putting their names in the Goblet of Fire. The selection is tonight. 

You wake up late. Sunlight pools in, although the room is still dim because the curtains haven’t been tossed open yet. The bed is empty beside you, but you hear movement in the kitchen, and a record playing very softly. You sigh and roll over, slowing opening your eyes. Your blurry vision comes into focus. You see a back clothed in a black dressing gown, and there’s an apron tied ‘round him. Severus is in the tiny kitchen, doing dishes and subtly swaying along to Frank Sinatra’s “Witchcraft”. He’s humming softly, too. (Your jazz music had apparently grown on him.) You glance towards the sofa. Next to the black ball of fluff that’s a sleeping Lily, is a basket of clean laundry. 

The scent of linens, tea, and whatever he had for breakfast lingers faintly in the air. You continue observing. He hasn’t noticed you yet. If you had it your way, he wouldn’t. You very much enjoy watching the sway of his hips as he moves. He uses his wand to make the dishtowel scrub cups without touching them with his hands, snapping his fingers to the beat of the bratty jazz. You’re loving it. 

However, when he feels your eyes on him, he immediately stops and sets the dishes down, turning off the sink. He turns visibly stiff and then abruptly. 

“Ahem. You saw nothing. Don’t think I like your music suddenly, because I don’t. It was the easiest record to get to, and I wanted music. The silence was driving me mad.” You smirk knowingly and pull yourself into a sitting position. 

“Wow~ I’m impressed, Sev.” you smile, “You can really dance.”

“You can’t.” 

You frown deeply. “Thanks. I can feel your unyielding support, you prick.” you reply. 

“We ought to get your unsatisfactory dancing skills sorted out before the Yule Ball. If you’re going to be my date, I can’t have you stepping all over my feet. We’d be an embarrassment to both our houses.” 

“Yes, thank you for emphasizing my atrocious dancing skills further.” you say, “Oh, and by the way…” 

He raises a brow. 

“You move your hips like a girl.” you say. His gaze hardens to a glare.

“…I kind of like it…” you finish, “It’s...what’s the word…saucy? Yes. Saucy.” 

“Saucy?” he echoes, “What the hell…” 

“Yes. Saucy.” 

“In all 34 years of my life I have never heard a stranger thing than what you’ve just said.” he says, “Do us a favor and never say that again.” 

“There’s nothing wrong with having saucy dance moves, Severus.” you say. His expression tells you that he does not agree with this. Nor is he amused in the slightest. 

You shift slightly, tucking your legs under you. “I won’t say anything to anyone about that at all. I promise. I can tell it’s making you uncomfortable, so we could forget the whole thing. I’m sorry, I just…” 

“No. It’s fine.” he replies, “I’m still not used to compliments since I don’t usually get any.” 

There’s a brief pause before you try to change the subject, “Umm…sorry, what time is it?” 

“It’s nearly noon. You missed breakfast again.” 

You chuckle and rub the back of your neck, “Of course it is. That’s always the case with me on weekends.” 

“Yes, you are quite lazy. And you conveniently sleep through all the chores.” he says. 

“Oy! I take care of them during the week!” you exclaim. You hear movement in the owl cage beside you. You glance over. Jareth’s face pokes out of his box, and he blinks his groggy, mismatched eyes at you.

“Oh…sorry, my love,” you say, “That was a bit loud. I didn’t mean to wake you. Go on back to sleep. I’ll be quieter.” His head disappears, and after shifting some, he goes quiet again. 

Severus shakes his head as he crosses the room towards you. “Well, you’re up now. So, come on. Off the bed you get. It needs to be made up. You won’t get your morning kiss until you go on the other side and help me.”

You frown, “You’re mean.” you say, half-jokingly.

“Yes, I’m aware. We’ve gone over this several times. Now get up. Chop, chop.” 

“Alright, alright~” 

You swing your legs over the edge of the bed, stand, and stretch your arms above your head. You yawn, and then turn back around to help him shake out, and then smooth down the sheets to make the four-poster bed. You fluff and arrange the pillows nicely as a finishing touch. Then, you both bend over the covers, towards one another, for a quick peck, before you turn around and toss open the drapes. Bright sunlight streams in through the polished glass of the windows, and you have to squint for a moment before your eyes adjust. 

“You know, before you moved in my dorm with me, I never bothered to open those curtains or keep that window polished. I found it pointless since I only ever came in here to sleep. But, since you’ve come around, that’s not the case anymore.”

“It’s that a good or a bad thing?” you ask. 

He gives you an “are you bloody serious right now?” look. 

“A good thing, I suppose. Letting the sunlight in, anyway.” 

“Yes. It’s much less gloomy like this!” you declare with a bright smile. The warmth of the rays reflects off the window to your warm cheeks. 

He crosses over to the sofa and picks up the basket of clothes. Then he dumps the contents onto the duvet. “Your turn to fold the laundry.” he says, “I’ve done everything else.” 

“Right! Okay~” just then your stomach growls, “Oh my. I’m a bit hungry~” 

He rolls his eyes, “I guess I can go to the kitchens and get something for you.” he scoffs, “If there’s anything left, that is.” 

“Okay! Wonderful~ thank you, you’re a dear.” you say. He takes off his apron, throws on some actual clothing that’s not just a dressing gown, and then starts for the door. 

“Oh, Sev?” 

He glances back at you. 

“Something light, i-if you don’t mind. Since there’s a huge feast tonight so I don’t want to eat too much.” you say. He nods briskly and whisks out of the room with a flip of his shoulder-length hair. 

You go into the restroom to do your business and put on something comfortable- a pair of denim shorts, a white button up, and a jumper that’s slightly oversized, with bright, multi-colored stripes. You cross back into the main part of the flat, put on Queen, sit on the bed, and start folding while you sing along. You’re more than halfway done when Severus returns with your brunch and a glass of water. 

“Thank you darling~” you say. He walks into the kitchen again. The smell of food wakes Lily up, and she hops off the couch and follows him. 

“It’s on the counter.” he says, and then suddenly, “Lily, no! That’s not for you!” You peer into the kitchenette. She’s gotten on top of the granite, and she’s trying to sneak a sample. She meows in irritation when he plucks her up and away. He walks back into the main part of the flat, still scolding her in his arms, “You had your food already, missy. Kit hasn’t.” 

You chuckle despite yourself, and you finish the folding. Then, you go into the kitchenette, grab your meal, and join him on the sofa, setting your glass of water on the side table, on the coaster next to the new lamp. You start to eat, and when he’s not looking, you sneak Lily a treat.

Well, at least you thought he wasn’t looking. “I saw that, Kit.” he says, “Don’t start her on a bad habit. She’s already got plenty of those. We don’t need her eating off plates like Jareth is prone to doing.” 

“Every once in a while isn’t going to hurt~” you reply. He rolls his eyes. You eat. Then you spend an hour or so chatting, before you decide to go down to his office. 

-xXx-

You’re enveloped by the familiar chill of the dungeons as you make your way down to his office. You go inside and close the door. He sits down in one of the worn armchairs with a book, while you light the fireplace and start boiling water for tea, humming quietly. You spoon some of your custom blended tea into the pot. You’d been using the knowledge of various herbs and magical ingredients you had been learning and re-learning in your advanced potions lessons with Severus to try making tea blends. You have had only one major success so far.

Once the water has gotten to a roll, you pour the boiling liquid over the leaves. You let it sit for 5 minutes, and then pour it into cups. You spoon three sugars into yours, and none in his. You had put one of the five tea sets you owned in his office, so that you could always have a station to make tea for the two of you when you spent afternoons there this year. 

You carry the teacups over to the chairs in front of the fireplace and set them on the end table between the two seats. You move a pile of books from your chair to the floor, dust off some cat fur, and sit down, kicking your shoes off and curling up on the cushion. You pick up the first book on the top of the pile you’d just moved, which is on remedies, use your knees as a table, and begin to read through it. 

Almost every book he has in his office has annotations written in it. You love reading his witty words and detailed notes, even more than the books themselves. You knew he was exceptionally skilled, but this reaffirmed that fact. You reach over and pick up your tea, taking a sip, and continue reading. Sip. Read. Sip. Read. Steal a glance at Severus…repeat…

You change positions in your chair several times. First, you’re sitting normally, then you’re lounging across the chair with your shoulders in the right corner, and your legs over the left arm. You switch again, this time the opposite way. Next, you’re lying on your stomach over the chair, and then you are upside down. Every time you move, Snape glances up from his book and shifts his eyes towards you. 

“Kit, pick a position already.” Snape huffs. You glance up from where you’re reading upside down. 

“I have.” you say. 

“You stay like that and all of the blood is going to rush to your head. Then you’ll pass out. I really don’t fancy a trip to the infirmary, so don’t let that happen.” he says. 

“This is what I do when I’m bored.” you confess. It must have been at least two hours since you had started reading, and you want to switch to a different activity. You have on your mind the exact activity you want, and you’re giddy when you suggest it. “How about some snogging? That sounds lovely.” 

“Well you’re certainly blunt.” he says. 

“You told me to be frank with you.” you reply, “And to tell you what I want.”

What sounds like a chuckle elicits from his mouth. There’s a short pause. He lowers the book from his face.

“Well. If you want to snog, then get. Over here.” he pats his lap. You quickly pull yourself into a standing position. Leaving the book on the chair with its spine up, you cross over to him. You straddle his lap, and then you pluck his book from his hand, setting it down on the table. He grips your hips, and you wrap your arms around his neck. You capture his mouth for a quick kiss, and then another, this one longer, and deeper, and another, and another, before you’re passionately going at it. You only break away to breathe, before you go in for more moist and heated kisses, lips tugging and pressing each other, moving in tandem, with tea-tasting tongues dancing in your mouths.

But a heavy knock on the door stops you abruptly. Immediately you tear away from each other, catch your breath, and you scramble off his lap, pulling your shirt back up on your shoulder, buttoning it up to the neck to cover the start of a hickey, tugging at the hem of your shorts that had previously been riding up, and sitting back down in your own chair. Severus briskly stands, cursing under his breath with annoyance. He rebuttons the top buttons on his waistcoat and shirt, and he wipes his mouth with his sleeve as he crosses over to the door. 

“I told you I’m not accepting late work, you—” he cuts off immediately, “Oh. Afternoon.”

“Good afternoon, Severus.” says a deep, accented voice you are unfamiliar with. 

“Igor. It’s been awhile.” he says in his usual disinterested drawl. Your stomach twists itself in a knot. 

“It has.” replies the gruff voice, “I thought I would drop by to say hello to an old acquaintance before the feast tonight.” 

_Bloody hell! Why did he have to come over here?_

“Very well. Thank you for stopping by. I would invite you inside for a cuppa tea, but, regrettably, I’m in the middle of something at the moment.” his statement comes out rather rudely, and a small part of you feels bad that the visitor has gotten turned down. You think, perhaps, that there is the slightest chance that maybe Karkaroff isn’t so bad. 

You get up and cross over to the door, “I-it’s okay, Severus! We can get back to what we were doing later.” You join him at his side. Karkaroff’s icy gaze pierces you, and you shrink.

“Well, well, who is this cute little thing?” he asks. You feel Severus stiffen beside you, and you shuffle uncomfortably. A hand falls to your shoulder. 

“Someone who is off limits to you, Karkaroff.” he replies. 

Igor Karkaroff chuckles, and gives you a cruel smirk. “Don’t worry, Severus. I won’t touch your little Lolita doll.” He says, “I am curious though, how much does he pay you for that little body of yours? Well, whatever it is, I’m sure it’s also doubled so you’ll stay with him.”

In other words, “ _I won’t touch your little whore.”_

Severus grits his teeth and clenches his fists. Anger festers in your core, accompanied by the churn of nerves triggering unsettling memories that make you feel sick. To be called something so demeaning…so objectifying…to be made to feel like…

You feel the familiar churn of panic, and your mind spins to places it shouldn’t be going. 

_Am I? Going around philandering with other teachers, good for nothing but being used? How much love is there between Severus and me…is it mainly lust? Is that all they see? Is that all I’m…_

You shrink back into the office. 

“I was only joking, Severus.” he forces the fakest laugh you’d ever heard. Oh, but Severus isn’t laughing with him at all. He looks near ready to punch him in the face. 

“Kit is _not_ an object to be _toyed_ with. How _dare_ you call them that.” Snape says bitterly. 

Karkaroff smiles chillingly again, and puts out his hands in surrender, “Severus, please. You know that isn’t what I meant. I apologize if that came out wrong.” Snape continues to glare. You can see right through Igor’s acting. 

And then Severus draws his wand, pointing at the other man, with his expression cold and icy. Karkaroff immediately puts up his hands and rears back, he chuckles, “I was not being serious, I swear! It was a joke, my friend! A _joke!”_

“Do not. Come back here. _Again_.” he says lowly, voice laced with contempt. He pulls his wand away and then he slams the door in Karkaroff’s face. He listens to the footsteps fade away. 

He mutters an insult under his breath. “That vulgar, arrogant bastard.” he growls. He turns and looks at you, and his harsh gaze softens, but his words still come out bitter and biting, “Don’t you _dare_ even _think_ of listening to that man!” 

“P-please don’t yell at me…” you choke out. That uncomfortable comment had left you feeling horrible, degraded, and humiliated. You couldn’t take him raising his voice right now. It was too intense for you. 

“I’m not yelling at you, Kit!” he exclaims, “I’m infuriated by the situation.” You hold his gaze. He grits his teeth. 

“What more do you expect me to do? I stood up for you! What else do you want from me? I can threaten him, but I cannot fight him, he’s our guest. No matter how much he deserves to have his arse beaten for that.”

You don’t know what to say. “I know, thank you for sticking up for me…I just…I’m just…I’m a mess, I’m going to go back to our dorm and get ready for the feast…I’ll see you in a bit…” you start to leave the office in a walk of shame. 

“Kit, wait.” he says, tugging your sleeve. His voice isn’t demanding, or stern. It’s pleading. You turn to study him with your hurt-filled gaze. He pulls you into his chest and wraps you in his embrace. You squeeze tightly. 

“Karkaroff is a fool. Don’t listen to a word he says.” He pulls away and gazes into your misty eyes, “But listen to my words. And listen well. This is something I didn’t think I needed to say, because I’ve done everything I can to show it…but because of the current situation, I’ll say it now.”

You study him, attentive. Then, the phrase graces off his tongue in the silkiest, deepest resonance of his purr. It’s not a declaration. But it’s soft, and tender. 

“I love you.” 

Tears sting your eyes. Your heart soars, and your face heats up with familiar warmth. This was the first time he had ever said that to you. He was right, those three words were nothing but a meaningless cliché, but the fact that he said them gave them meaning again. You knew he would never use them lightly. He meant them from the very bottom of his heart. 

“I love you too, Severus.” you murmur, “More than anything.” 

“I know.” he replies. You smile with soft amusement and tuck under his chin again. 

It occurred to you then, that “Always” was for her, and “I love you” was for you. The very thought of that makes you want to weep tears of joy. 


	5. The Lottery

V. The Lottery

Halloween buzzes in the air on campus. The Great Hall is illuminated with candlelight. Jack O’ Lanterns hover as floating orange lights above the tables. The room is full of laughter and excitement. People chat animatedly, and everyone is determined to finish their food as quickly as possible to get to the selection of the champions, to get to the lottery. 

You watch Severus roll his eyes at the sight of the students gracelessly stuffing their faces with potatoes and blood-red punch. Severus sips from his goblet. You cut off a piece of chicken from your drumstick and take a dainty bite. You’re curious about the lottery, but you aren’t overly excited like the students. So, you are going to enjoy your dinner. 

You observe everyone. The students from the other two schools have already started mingling among house tables. Professor Karkaroff and Madame Maxime chat with members of your own staff. Professor Karkaroff has forgone giving you stares from his cold eyes in favor of talking to Aurora Sinistra. Olympe Maxime converses with Hagrid, laughing jovially. You and Severus chat quietly.

This evening, in the spirit of the season, you were dressed up all in frilly, silvery white and gold robes with sparkling makeup to match. You’d sealed up the look by temporarily turning your hair a silvery white-blonde color, with black lipstick, sultry dark eye make-up, and some sort of elvish circlet you’d dug out of your accessory drawer. You’d used makeup to paint a glittering galaxy of golden and silver starry freckles across your face. You’d rummaged to the bottom of your makeup bag to find the stuff. Shimmering highlights on your cheeks sculpted out your features and gave you an inhuman type of glow. Your colors were the exact opposite of Severus. You’d taken Professor Sprout’s comment last year to heart and used it to create a costume. She had said that you and Severus were like night and day, so you had literalized it. You looked like an angelic white deity if they’d chosen to dress up from the Victorian Era. 

“Don’t get bright red punch on your white blouse.” Severus comments smartly. You tuck your cloth napkin into your collar. 

“I won’t.” you say, with a smile. 

“You look like a fae creature with all your glitter and your white hair.” Severus says, “Was that your intention?” 

“Not entirely, but I’ll accept that.” you smile broadly. 

He hums thoughtfully. 

You turn and lightly touch his arm, “Remember how last year, Madame Sprout made a comment that the two of us are like night and day?” 

“Yes. What of it?” he answers dryly.

“Well, since I knew you wouldn’t bother to dress up and would be in your usual black, I went ahead and dressed in the exact opposite color, white, to literalize the idea of night and day.” 

“It’s better than pumpkin robes.” he scoffs.

“Hey!” 

“Uggh. I’m trying to say you look nice.” he finishes, “...I think.” 

“Oh…” you flush rose, “Well, thank you, I worked very hard on my make-up…”

“Is that why you took over our bathroom for almost four hours?” he scoffs.

“Maybe…” Then you realize… “Hang on! What do you mean you _think_ I look nice? Either you do or you don’t. Be frank with me~” you tease. 

This gets an eye roll out of him. You smirk. 

“Fine. You look nice, Kit.” he huffs, “It’s just strange to see you with different-colored hair.” 

“Oh, I’ll turn it back to my normal color as soon as I get this outfit off~” you reassure, “Believe me, this is not a permanent fix. I just did it to match the rest of my attire. However, hypothetically, if I chose to keep it this way, how would you feel?” you ask curiously. 

“I would give you a hard time about it, but I would get used to it eventually.” He replies. 

You smile softly, “Good answer.” 

-xXx-

At long last, Dumbledore announces that it is time for the lottery to take place. The goblet of fire is brought up to the front of the hall. 

“The Goblet of Fire only needs about a minute more to make its decision.” Dumbledore says as everyone in the room babbles animatedly. A minute passes, and then a blue flame shoots up from the inside of the glass. A slip of parchment flutters into the air, and lands in the Headmaster’s waiting hand. He opens the slip and reads it. 

“The Durmstrang Champion is…Viktor Krum!” a huzzah of cheers echoes in the air, and you watch the burly 18-year-old in crimson get up and walk across the aisles, passing the teachers and the High Table, and going into the adjacent room. 

Another blue flame shoots up to produce another piece of parchment. Dumbledore catches it and reads it, “The Champion from Beauxbatons is Fleur Delacour.” A tall, slim girl with a blonde ponytail and shining eyes crosses the aisle and disappears into the room. The next name follows suit.

“And the Champion for Hogwarts is…Cedric Diggory!” 

_Yes!_ You beam with pride as a mixture of signals fills the room. The handsome young boy jumps up from his seat, and you cheer and applaud the loudest of all the teachers as he passes the group of you to join the other two champions. He passes you wearing a proud smile, and your chest flutters with excitement…before the weight of the true nature of the tournament resurface itself in your head again, and your stomach twists at its pit. 

“Excellent!” Dumbledore declares. It is only then that you feel Severus stepping away from you. 

“Sev?” his gaze is fixed on the goblet of fire, and he takes a few steps towards it. You follow his gaze. The hall falls silent as the flame shoots up and a four slip of parchment floats down into Dumbledore’s hand. He slowly looks at the name. 

“Harry Potter.” 

_Oh shit._

Silence. Tension is so thick that you can cut it with a knife. Dumbledore raises his voice. 

“ _Harry Potter!”_ you look to the boy across from you. He’s wide-eyed and terrified, but Hermione urges him on. Ron’s expression hardens. 

He slowly gets up and starts to cross over. He’s trembling. His thin form seems much frailer than it should be. 

“He’s a cheat!” someone yells. And then the hall is filled with the garbled mess of angry and unsettled voices. He keeps his head down as he passes the assembly of teachers, and you perceive him with pity. And you think, _Poor Mr. Potter can never catch a break…_ You wonder how it’s possible, when Dumbledore drew an age line. And he wasn’t among those who’d ended up in the infirmary for aging potion gone wrong. He looked beyond terrified. And now he was going to have to compete. A fourteen-year-old boy in a potentially lethal tournament. You weren’t angry. Your mind was muddled and your stomach was twisted in familiar knots as it often was. The air in here felt cold. 

-xXx-

They’re letting Harry Potter compete. The rules are absolute. The Goblet of Fire is a binding magical contract. Like selling your soul to Devil. Once you’ve made a pact with the Goblet of Fire, there was no going back on it. 

He’d said so many times. He didn’t do it. He didn’t do it. He didn’t put his name in the Goblet of Fire. You’re among the only ones who believe him. You, Dumbledore, Hagrid. If McGonagall did, you couldn’t get a read on her. Professor Moody says it doesn’t line up. It would take an incredibly skillful wizard to hoodwink the Goblet into thinking that it was supposed to select four names. You knew Harry was skilled, but he still had far too much training to do beforehand. 

Professor Karkaroff is furious. So is Severus. And Madame Maxime isn’t very keen on it either. She believes Harry is lying and Hogwarts is cheating, no matter how much he pleads he didn’t put his name in the Goblet. But the look on his face when he’d been called was unmistakable. His reaction? Obvious. He didn’t do it. The question of the hour was…who did, then? You wish you had all the answers. 

“This is bloody outrageous!” Severus storms about your room that night, livid. His lip curls and his face is twisted in a rage that makes you shudder, “The _nerve_ of that _idiot_ boy! The second I have a reason, he’s getting detention.” 

_He didn’t do it, Severus…didn’t you see the look on his face?_

You watch him pacing vigorously. You think you catch a hint of worry behind those blazing eyes. 

“Did you see the look on his face?” you say, “He was just as mortified as everyone else.” 

“He SHOULD be! I’d be mortified too if I was caught red-handed in front of three schools.” Severus replies, “But for that, I have no sympathy! It was his own damn fault! Stupid child.” 

“Severus, you actually believe he did it himself?” you ask. He stops and glares daggers. You shrink where you sit up in bed. 

“That boy has been nothing but trouble since he came here!” Severus replies icily, “Just like his thick-headed, arrogant, father!” His answer, you find to be indirect, and more so implicit than explicit. 

“Look, I- I know you’re angry, sweetheart…” you say, “I-I’m not happy about it either. But you heard what Mr. Crouch was saying. There isn’t anything we can do, just…” 

His voice lowers, “…Maybe I will actually poison him. I was just bluffing in class but…” 

“No, you absolutely WILL NOT!” you exclaim, horrified at the thought, and suddenly very furious. 

“Excuse me!?” he snaps back. 

“That’s a horrible thing to do! Don’t abuse your exceptionally skillful abilities like that!” you exclaim. 

“It wouldn’t be a lethal poison, my stars! You think I’m stupid? It would just make him sick for a few days. Teach him a lesson. And that’s only if he doesn’t prepare his antidote correctly.” he replies. 

“Doesn’t matter! Poison is poison!” you exclaim, “If you need to poison someone for a lesson, then I volunteer myself.”

“What kind of idiot poisons his lover!?” Snape exclaims, “That’s completely diabolical!” 

“Well, so is poisoning a kid, Severus.” you scoff. 

He paces back and forth in front of you before stopping and looking right at you, “How else am I supposed to test their antidotes!?” 

“I told you I would volunteer to be the guinea pig.” you reply. 

“I am not poisoning you!” he exclaims sharply. 

“If you won’t poison me, don’t poison the kids.” you huff. Then, you cross your arms over your chest and say, “If you really must, you could always poison yourself. Then you’d really be able to test the antidotes well.” 

“In case you’ve forgotten, I’m very unpopular. The students would much rather watch me get sick so they can leave class early and not give me antidotes.” 

“Not if their grades and house points are at stake, they won’t~” you reply. 

“Uggh! Fine! No one’s getting poisoned, then! I’ll just use other methods to test and grade them!” he finally relents. You smirk triumphantly. 

“Thought so.” you say. This time you’ve won. Severus is all huffy. You yawn, “I think I’m going to turn in.” you tell him. 

“Fine. I’ll be down in my office.” he replies dryly. 

“You’re not upset with me, are you?” you ask, your stomach clawing with worry. 

“I’m upset at the situation. I need time alone to think. And your morality is getting slightly on my nerves.” he answers. 

“Oh…” your face falls, “Well, alright then…” 

You go quiet before his voice cuts into the air again. 

“Though I suppose that makes you my…how do conventional lovers say it? Better half?” 

You nod, “Yes. Your better half.” you smile gently. 

“Correct.” he answers, “Well, goodnight. I doubt I’ll see you until morning.” And then with a chaste kiss, he turns and whisks out of the room, closing the door behind him, leaving you alone with Lily, because Jareth has gone out for a hunt. You go into the bathroom. You wash the makeup from your face, and remove your ghostly dandy outfit, throwing it into the hamper. You put on Severus’s shirt and then crawl into bed on your side—the one closest to the window. You leave one candle on, and then you try to sleep. But alas, the bed’s a little cold and it’s hard to get comfortable. You lay there for what seems like hours, tossing and turning and drifting in and out of consciousness. It isn’t until you feel the mattress dip, and thin, dry lips press lightly on the back of your neck, that you fall asleep completely. 

* * *

You wake up the next day, and it’s Sunday. You both wake up around eleven-thirty or so and opt to have a stay-in day. Well, you will as soon as your growling stomachs are satisfied, anyway. You’ve missed breakfast, and lunch will not be for at least another two hours. 

“Why don’t we go to Hogsmeade and get lunch at Mauve and Jeremy’s?” you suggest, stomach suddenly hungry for fancy coffee drinks and café sandwiches.

Severus shrugs indifferently. “Do _you_ want to? I don’t much care.”

“Of course, why else would I suggest it?” you reply. 

“Fine. That’s all I needed to know.” he answers. 

“Okay!” 

“Well. What are we waiting for?” he asks, “Are we going to lay here or are we going to go eat?”

Your stomach growls. You stretch your arms over your head and yawn. And then you swing your legs over the side, and step on the floor with your bare feet. On the opposite side, he does the same. 

-xXx-

When you get back from Hogsmeade, you snog on the couch and spend the better part of the afternoon making sweet love that is long overdue. When you finish, you shower, go down to dinner and then spend the evening sitting in bed, just talking. 

“So, I’ve told you the tragedy of my past,” Snape says, “I think you owe me an explanation of yours.” 

“Oh…” you trail off, “Of course…where do I even begin…” 

“How did you meet your friends, first of all? They seem to be a very significant part of your life.” he says.

“Well, it actually took a couple years for us to all become friends. I had other friends before-- when I got to Hogwarts anyway. You see, most of my family members are muggles so I was always the black sheep…the freak. And after my muggle friends found out I had powers, they all stopped hanging around with me. Th-they would whisper and point...and I got teased and insulted a lot, but I was too nice to pick up on it. So, I felt even more out of place. When I got to Hogwarts, I was thrilled to be around other wizards and witches in training. I’d finally be able to make friends with people who didn’t think I was some crazy freak. And I did.” a small, melancholy smile passes over your face as you recall the youthful faces of your first group, but then you frown, “Or, so I thought…”

He studies you with his intense gaze. “What happened?” he presses you on. 

“There are three of them I remember very clearly. There was Elizabeth, a Gryffindor with curly hair. And the Carlyle twins, Samantha and Marley- Sam and Mars, that’s what we used to call them. They were in Slytherin. Elizabeth was sweet, but she was also a drama queen. Sam was cynical and hot-headed, and Mars was very cocky. He thought he was better than everyone else. Honestly, he was quite an arse…but in a good way? He used to insult me a lot because I was a Hufflepuff, so he thought I was weak and stupid. But his sister always told him off when he stepped out of line. It felt good. It was the four of us, and I was happy, because I finally had friends.” 

“Even though we were in separate houses, we had a lot of time to interact during lunches, after school, and on weekends. From years 1-3, that was how it was. In our third year, the four of us took music together. Even so, I couldn’t help but feel isolated, because I was the only Muggle-born in the group. I wasn’t familiar with the wizard world, so I couldn’t understand certain pop culture references and such. I'd ask for clarification, and they’d give me weird looks and remind me of my ignorance. Saying things like, “This thing, you know, like...haven’t you ever heard of _that_ before?” or “Oh my stars you don’t know what this is!? How can you not get it? Everyone knows...” There was a lack of connection there and every time I’d hear something like this, I’d feel stupid. 

Our quartet was always dynamic, like, people came and went from our little group, but never once was there anyone who was in the same house as I was. I always felt so alienated because I was the only Hufflepuff in the group.” you say.

“Mars and others continued to tease me about that…and then I found out I was getting excluded. They’d do all sorts of things during the summer and the holidays, but they wouldn’t invite me. They made the excuse that I was always busy with my “muggle family” so they didn’t see a point in asking. They lied about how much time they spent without me outside of school, and would share secrets and not tell me, even though I’d never given them reasons not to trust me. I-it wasn’t like I’d be allowed to hang out with them, anyway, though, because the only time I could interact with our world was during the school year…”

“But even so, it hurt because I already felt isolated enough being in Hufflepuff, being Muggle-Born, and always being taken home from school on weekends to go on trips and family gatherings. I hated it. “…Not only that, but Lizzie had a lot of drama with Mars and people that came and went from the group. It was toxic. And it was getting progressively worse, so I decided that the best thing to do would be to drift apart from the rest of them for my own good. It was the hardest thing I ever had to do…” you sigh, “--But I was never really alone, because going into my fourth year, I met Stella.” 

A wide grin stretches across your face, “I remember my Grandpa and I were in Diagon Alley going school shopping. I needed a new quill. There were some unique, neon-colored ones. I remember looking at them, and I was trying to decide between two different colors. I have a habit of thinking out loud sometimes, so I said…

_“These are all so pretty, which one do I choose?”_

_“I know, right? There’s so many choices!” says a chipper voice from behind you. You turn to see the face of the person talking. She’s about your age, maybe slightly younger, and she’s got freckles, blue eyes, a cute button nose, a round face, and long brown hair with blue on the ends. You smile. You notice she’s got an armful of books on magical creatures in her arms. Her clothing is striped, brightly colored, and mismatched. She’s wearing what looks like a pair of wire cat ears on her head, and a Ravenclaw jumper._

_“I-if you were choosing,” you begin shyly, “Which color quill would you pick? The pink or the green one?”_

_“Hmm…” she turns and studies both options, “I think…I’d go for the green one.”_

_“Great!” you exclaim, plucking it from the shelf, “Thank you, umm…”_

_“’M Stella!” she says._

_“My name’s Kit.” You reply, “…Are you a fourth year too?”_

_“Yep! I’m still 13 though. I’ll be 14 on October first.” she says. It is then you notice she’s got an Ancient Runes textbook in her arms. You beam with excitement._

_“You’re taking Ancient Runes?”_

_“Yeah.” she replies, “Thought I’d check it out, it seemed interesting.”_

_“So am I!” you say, “I suppose I’ll see you in class, then?”_

_“Mmm hmm.” she replies._

_“Kit!” a warm voice calls from behind, “Have you picked your quill yet?”_

_“Oh! That’s my Grandpa. I’ve gotta go now but it was nice to meet you!” you wave and start to turn, “Yes, I just finished up. I’ll be right there! Bye Stella.”_

_“Bye Kitty!” she replies. You blush, your chest swells, and you join Grandpa where he stands with an armful of your books._

_“Who were you talking to?” he asks curiously, eyes twinkling._

_“Someone who is going to be in my Ancient Runes class with me. Hopefully I’ll make some new friends this year.” you answer._

_“Good. That’s very good!” he replies._

You sigh happily at the memory and look back at Snape, “She was always very eccentric and very energetic.” you say, regarding Stella, “I love that about her.” 

“Oh yes, I’m quite aware, but…Neon green quills?” he says, “Seriously? You too? I remember when those atrocious things were popular…thank stars that isn’t the case anymore.” 

“Oy, I liked them. I still have my hot pink one somewhere…” you reply, “…Anyway! Not long after that, I met Eliza. She was a little snippy and dismissive at first, but eventually we realized we had quite a lot in common, and we clicked. She told me that her best friend had transferred to a different magic school, and that the only other friend she had was also a Hufflepuff. As it turns out, it was Renee.” 

You shift slightly, tucking your legs under you and curling up in the corner of the sofa, “When she introduced us, I recognized her. She was either by herself in the Hufflepuff common room all the time, or with Eliza in the library, reading, writing, or drawing. I always saw her in warm jumpers or geeky t-shirts. We started to talk, and although she was very shy and cold at first, she warmed up to me after a few months. We started sitting together at the Hufflepuff table, and she introduced me to Jeremy and Mauve, who were also very shy and quiet. We went to Hogsmeade then, all of us—me, Stella, Eliza, Renee, Jeremy and Mauve. We had butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks, and everyone got to know each other. Soon after that, Stella brought over Orion, and Renee invited Damocoles and Cas. 

Finally, in year five, Eliza and I invited Eugene to join us too. I’d known of Eugene since I took music, but I didn’t really start talking to him until Eliza brought him to study in the library one day. They had Arithmancy together.” 

You take a sip of water from your goblet. Your throat felt a bit dry from talking so much.

“In the last four years of school, we all became like a big family. I finally had a group of people who loved and supported me no matter what. They didn’t tease me to be mean. They never lied to me about things. They invited me to all the get-togethers. And our houses didn’t matter. There was no inferiority or superiority complexes. We just used our houses and personality types to help us better understand one another…” 

You sigh contently, “My favorite memories from school are all the times we spent together. Orion used to bring a picnic blanket to lunch every day. We would get our food from the Hall, and then have picnics in the courtyard. Not everyone was there all the time, but still. And we roamed Hogsmeade together on weekends. Even now, the Three Broomsticks is still one of our favorite places…” 

“How much liquid luck did you take?” Snape says once you’ve finished speaking. 

“What do you mean?” you ask. 

“As mad as your friends are, you’re so fortunate to have them. It’s surreal.” he says, “You’re telling me there was no liquid luck involved?”

“No. Not at all.” you smile softly, “Just love and common interests. No magic.” 

“Lucky you.” 

There’s a short silence. 

“S-Sorry if I rambled on too much there…” you say meekly. 

“I was the one who asked for a story. Don’t apologize.” he replies, “You deserve the friends you have. And I hope that nothing but ill-will falls on the people that hurt you. Don’t forget that.”

“Oh…umm…thank you.” you say, and then you look up, “The truth is, I don’t really have any sort of hatred or anger or anything towards them. I don’t need any kind of vengeance. We were just immature kids. Kids grow up. The important thing is that they learned their lessons.” 

A wave of melancholy flicks in his eyes, overtaking his knowing expression. “What did I _even do_ to deserve you…?” 

You take his hands and give them a squeeze. You gaze into his eyes with a soft expression, “You might be a sarcastic and moody arse, Severus, but you’re good to me. You’ve shown you trust me. You love me, you listen to me, you protect me, and you respect me. That’s how.” 

He doesn’t say anything, but a ghost of a solemn smile appears on his face. You’re warmed from your heart through your veins. You feel a tight squeeze on your clammy hands, and then you both go in for the kiss.

From then on, the days begin to grow steadily colder, and the first task draws nearer. You don’t know the extent of the danger, and you’re nervous for the kids being in the gladiator pit. 

Your class days go by with nothing particularly eventful, although there’s a massive increase in excitement and a decrease in focus because talk of the tournament is buzzing in the air. Not for poor Harry Potter, though. From what little you see of him, he just looks distressed and beaten down. It doesn’t help that the “Support Cedric Diggory”/ “Potter Stinks” buttons are literally everywhere. Your appreciation for the school supporting a fellow Hufflepuff is drowned out by your frustration with people being mean. 

You walk down the hall one day, and you catch a group of students laughing and shit-talking Harry Potter over the badges. You weren’t in the most chipper of moods. And the last thing you wanted to put up with were immature students being cruel. So, you walk up to them. 

They press the buttons quickly and they switch back to saying, “Support Cedric Diggory”. They play the sweet and innocent act, offering you false and guilty smiles. 

“I don’t think Cedric would like this very much if he knew what the badges really said,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“What do you mean, Professor? All they say is “Support Cedric Diggory”, what’s so wrong with that?” one of them tries to lie. 

“If they don’t say anything rude, how about you push them and show me, then?” you reply. Immediately all their faces plead guilty. 

“Go on. Show me. I don’t want to take away house points, so you’d better listen.” So, one of them presses the badge, and it changes back to “Potter Stinks”. 

“Hmm. That’s what I thought.” you say thoughtfully, “So, you have a choice. You either hand over those buttons or lose house points. Dumbledore said you were supposed to show support for the Hogwarts champions, regardless of who they were. And this isn’t showing support.”

“The real champion is Cedric Diggory, Professor. Potter is a cheat.” one of them retorts.

“Regardless of the circumstances or feelings. As part of the student body at Hogwarts, you must support both of your champions. As a teacher, it is my job to protect all the students from being bullied or hurt. And wearing buttons with libel on them is completely uncalled for.” You hold out your hand, “Buttons. _Now_. Do not make me take away house points.” 

In a fit of dissatisfied grumbles and mutters, the buttons are piled into your hand. You tuck them into the pocket of your cloak, and then turn and walk briskly down the hall. 

“Have fun confiscating all of them! You won’t be able to!” one of the students sneer from behind you. You stop and turn around to face them again. 

“5 points from Hufflepuff,” you say, “And the same from Slytherin. You don’t disrespect teachers. Or peers.” You whip around and continue down the hall again. As you walk away, you swear you hear one of them say something to the effect of, “Professor Snape’s rubbing off on Professor Oakley. They used to be so much more laid back.” 

You grit your teeth, thinking, _“Just watch me confiscate all those badges, you little buggers…”_ And it becomes your mission for the next week or more. 

When you’ve retired to the dorm for the evening, you’re vigorously going through the confiscated buttons and changing the wording from “Support Cedric Diggory// Potter Stinks” to “We Support our Champions”.

“…And you said I was the petty one.” Severus scoffs. You look up from the desk where you are modifying the buttons.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

He chuckles. “You made a point to single out and confiscate all the buttons as a punishment, but now you’re sitting here and altering the wording with every intention to redistribute them. You know that the students who made them in the first place will just change them back to spite you, because that’s how teenagers behave. So, why waste your time? You’ve already made your point.” 

“I just…well…” your shoulders sink, “I don’t know…I’m trying to be less of a pushover! That’s why I confiscated them in the first place. Also, there was libel on them. It wasn’t right.” you declare. 

Severus rolls his eyes and shakes his head. 

“What?” 

“Libel? I think you’re overdramatizing it a bit, Kit.” he comments dryly. 

“Well…I just…” you huff, “It isn’t fair that one person gets singled out and ganged up on. It’s wrong on so many levels. Dumbledore said we’re supposed to be supportive and that’s not supportive at all.”

“You know it won’t ever be that way.” he points out, “Not with all of the house and student rivalries that are constantly perpetuated. And that’s just how it is. Life isn’t fair and never will be.”

“I understand that. But I don’t like it. I know how it feels to be ganged up on, a-and to feel isolated and unwanted. I don’t want any student to feel that way. So, at the very least I can try to vouch for fairness and support. I won’t make much of a difference on my own but at least I’ll know I did my best.” you conclude. 

Again, he smirks and shakes his head. “You’re really something else, I swear.” he says, “It amuses me.” 

“Oh…by the way,” you begin, “I took away points from my house today.” 

“You—” he cuts off. 

“…And from yours.” you finish, “…Sorry…”

He gives you a look, “Don’t apologize for conducting discipline.” he says, “You’re supposed to. I myself have taken at least sixty points from Gryffindor today. At least twenty from Hufflepuff, and thirty from Ravenclaw.” 

_Of course, you did._

“How many did _you_ take?” he questions.

“Umm…” you’re almost embarrassed to admit.

“Well, Kit? How many?” he repeats. 

“Ten in total. Five from Slytherin, five from Hufflepuff.” 

He says, “Congratulations, that’s barely any.” 

“B-but look at all the badges I confiscated though!” you declare, indicating the pile. 

He glances at the stack for half a moment, and then says, “Well…”

“Well what, Severus?” 

“It’s a start.” he finishes. 

_Well,_ you think, _That’s the closest thing to a ‘good job’ I’ll get out of him, I suppose…_

“You need to work on not feeling remorse for conducting punishment.” he says, “You’re still too nice.” 

“I know… b-but it’s hard when you’re not a hard-arse.” you reply, “I don’t want to be a mean teacher, I’m not like that.” 

He rolls his eyes, “There’s such thing as a middle ground you know. You don’t have to lean to an extreme. Although, I really have no room to talk, now do I?” 

“Not really.” you answer honestly. His thin mouth tugs into a smirk. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	6. Dungeons and Dragons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Mild verbal abuse found here in the italic text at the beginning.

VI. Dungeons and Dragons 

_You’re ten years old and your sister is screaming at you at the school harvest festival._

_“What is your problem, Kit!? What did you just do!” your eight-year-old sister is angry and there’s hot tears in her eyes._

_“I just…I…” you look down at the hands which had caused the desserts at the baked goods table to blow up in the faces of the bullies that had been picking on your sister. It sent the three girls running off screaming to their parents._

_“You RUINED my chance to be friends with the popular girls!” she roars._

_“They were making fun of you! A-and ignoring you! One of them tried to trip you! I saw that!” you reply, trying to defend yourself, “They don’t care about you, Niki.”_

_“We were messing around! We were having fun. But you- but you—you **ruined** it!” she yells, “You’re a FREAK! No one is going to be friends with a freak’s sister!” she turns, and she runs off, crying. You clench your fists. _

_The story goes around the school, and the rumors and murmurs begin. The people you were friends with stop talking to you._

_Incidents like this keep happening whenever you get upset. Your anger breaks glass, your crying causes telekinesis you can’t control._

_Your parents start arguing._

_“Kit’s powers are only going to get stronger as they get older.” Your mother says, “They need to learn how to control them.”_

_“I will not endorse my child to practice such heinous sin!” he yells, “People like **that** were persecuted for a reason! It’s a curse! The devil’s work!”_

_“I’m a half-blood myself!” your mother yells, “You know that, but you married me anyway! How can you say that?”_

_“You repented, committed yourself to the church, and you gave up that lifestyle like any good person should.” he replies, “You are not a witch anymore!”_

**_A witch!? But…_ **

_“But—”_

_“I’m done discussing this.”_

* * *

_From that point on anything magic or magic related is taken from the house. Talk of magic and sorcery is forbidden. If you were caught, you’d be grounded and have to do all the chores for a week. Visits with your grandparents were limited. And visits to church became routine. Every Sunday at least, and Wednesday too. Your abilities, though, didn’t vanish overnight._

_“Kit!” your father gruffly calls you out of your room. Your mother is not home. She’d taken your sisters somewhere you didn’t want to go. Your stomach twists in a knot and you walk into the room with your head down, your feet like lead, and your body stiff._

_When you get inside, you recognize the pastor from the local church immediately._

_“Say hello.” he says._

_“Good evening, Father David.” you reply with a shaky and small voice, “Nice to see you.”_

_“Hello, Kit.” he smiles softly, but you want to shrink where you stand. You must be in trouble because of your “curse” again. Your stomach churns. You want to hurl up your juice and crackers you’d had for a snack earlier. Was he here to “persecute” you? To condemn you? But why?_

_Why? I’m good! I say my prayers and read my Bible stories and wash my hands before I eat! I’m nice to everyone even if most people don’t like me! I can’t control my powers! I don’t mean to! I don’t mean to use them! Please…_

_“Please, have a seat on the couch.” your dad says to the pastor._

_“Thank you.” he replies. He sits down._

_“Would you like a cuppa tea, father?”_

_“No, that’s alright. I’ll just have a glass of water, if you don’t mind.”_

_“Right away.” he nods and vanishes into the kitchen. And then you think, “ **he’s mean to us at home when no one can see him but when he’s around other people he…”**_

_“Are you going to persecute me for having magic powers?” you ask him._

_Father David smiles gently. But you find it unsettling. “No. Of course not. I’m not going to punish you for having such a creative imagination.” he says, “I’m going to help you pray.” Your father returns from the kitchen and sets the cup of water on a coaster._

_“Thank you.” he says. He takes a drink, and then your hands, “Come, child. Sit with me.” you sit down._

_“Now, we clasp our hands, and bow our heads.” You do as he says._

_“Close your eyes.” Your eyes flutter closed._

_“And repeat after me.”_

_“Heavenly Father we pray (etc, etc)…Amen.”_

_Somehow you felt a little better after this. But your powers don’t go away. And you go from feeling better to feeling betrayed._

-xXx-

* * *

**End of August, About 1979.**

_The mood at the dinner table is heavy as usual. It’s the day before you’re meant to leave for your first year at Hogwarts. You feel the burning gazes of your jealous sisters._

_“Have fun at freak school.” sneers Nicolette._

_“Hey. Be nice.” Your mother warns._

_“You’re lucky your grandfather is generous enough to help pay for that insane asylum. Don’t think I’m happy about this at all, Kit Laurel Oakley” Your father says, “I am not. I think it is immoral, and wrong. I think it is sinful, and blasphemous. But I’d rather have you learn how to control your curse and be able to suppress it like your mother did, than bring the family to shame. You can go on the one condition your wizard behavior stops the second you come home for holidays. No spell books. No robes. No magic. No wand. You will put everything away until you go back. Your owl is staying chained up in its cage. Any summer assignments, you do in your room and then put away and never speak of. And one mishap, you’re not going back. Understand?”_

_“Yes sir.” You say meekly._

* * *

“Kit.” says a gruff voice. You’re pulled back to reality. You glance at Severus and then look around at the stadium full of excited and screaming people. It’s unnaturally warm. Below you in the gladiator’s pit is a dragon—a terrifying, crimson Chinese Fireball. She’s chained up by her neck and guarding a nest of eggs. In the middle of the nest is a metal, golden egg. The task for the champions is to get the golden egg without getting incinerated or mauled to bits. 

_This is just very slightly mad._ You think. You glance over at the adjudicator table. Ludo Bagman, Barty Crouch, Dumbledore, Madame Maxime, and Professor Karkaroff are there, getting themselves situated. Dumbledore straightens his scorecards and waits for a moment. The sea of fans echoes in the stands. It smells like food. Some students have volunteered to walk around and sell concessions. Fred and George are going around taking bets. 

_Literally betting on lives right now._

From beside you, Severus takes a sip from the butterbeer he is holding. He offers you some. But your stomach is too twisted to accept it. He lowers the drink and wipes the foam from his mouth. 

“What’s the matter?” he asks you, “You look a bit sick.” 

“I’m nervous.” you say. 

“Why?” he replies, “It isn’t as if you’re going to be down there fighting dragons.” 

“Maybe I’m not, but kids are!” you reply, finally voicing aloud your opposition, “This isn’t Ancient Rome, this is Hogwarts. Why are we condoning gladiator tournaments?” 

Severus shrugs, “Ask the Ministry of Magic.” he replies, “Though honestly, it’s just another sport. Like Quidditch.” 

“Yeah, a _blood_ sport!” 

“If you have such a strong opposition to it, why are you out here watching?” Severus asks. 

You fall silent, before you say, “To support our school and our two champions...no other reason. I don’t want to seem like a spoilsport...” you frown. 

Severus sighs deeply, rolling his eyes, “If you _really_ don’t want to watch,” he begins, “You can hide your face in my cloak.” 

“Oh…Severus, that’s so sweet…” you reply. 

Before he can respond, Dumbledore’s voice cuts sharply into the air, “Welcome wizards, witches, and other sorcerers! To the Triwizard Tournament!” (The explosive cheers grow louder. It makes your ears ring.) 

“Simmer down! Simmer down! Now, for the first task, our champions will face dragons. Their task is to get the golden egg from the nest, which contains the hint for the second task. They must not break the real eggs in the nest, if they do, they will lose points. They are scored on a 1-10 scale. 1 being awful, and of course, 10 being flawless. Whoever has the highest score at the end of the task will be in first place! Whoever has the most points at the end of the year wins!” he explains, “Now then! Are we ready?” 

(The screams shake the stadium and you have to cover your ears to avoid damage.) 

“Then! Let us begin, shall we? Please give a warm welcome to the Durmstrang Champion, VIKTOR KRUM!” 

The voices echo “KRUM! KRUM! KRUM!”, and the ruckus makes an earthquake in the stands as the burly eighteen-year-old bursts out onto the field. 

Almost immediately after it starts, the dragon spits a jet of flame from its mouth and lunges at the young man. He rolls out of the way, sliding harshly out of reach of its snapping jaws. 

You seize Severus by the arm. 

The dragon lunges again, and misses. Its massive claws go in to cuff him, but he staggers backward, pressing his body against a jutted rock. The dragon snaps its glinting teeth, nearly catching his coat collar. 

You let out a pitiful squeal. 

Viktor's guttural voice rips through the air. _“Conjunctivitis!”_ The sparks from his wand strike the dragon in her eyes. She lets out a scream, lurching her head backwards. 

You grimace, throwing your hands over your ears as her cry splits the air. 

Her chains rattle and dig into her scales when she lurches back. Hot tears well up in her reddened eye whites, discharge falling down her crimson cheeks as they swell shut. 

Sickness claws its way up your stomach to your throat. 

Viktor narrowly dodges her crimson mass as she begins to flail blindly, head whipping from side to side, and feet stomping so harshly she shakes the stadium, kicking up a cloud of dust from the floor. Krum coughs as he's showered with the sand.

Her jaws snap ferociously, her wings create unnatural drafts of harsh wind. Her cries become distressed roars. 

You slap a hand over your mouth. _Oh, how awful…_ your eyes sting. And then there’s Krum, charging towards her nest. While she flails, her sharp wing nearly knocks him into a nearby rock. 

She breaks the eggs underfoot, cracking the shells like beetles. Slick, slimy embryos of hatchlings that won’t ever be slip onto the ground. 

That was costing him points.

Krum moves to go under her, diving down into the embryonic slime, flinging his arms around the golden egg. 

Cheers rattle the stands. You want to puke. 

The thundering stomps fill the suffocating air around you, echoing like drum beats. A chorus of terrified gasps accompany them. You look down as Krum rolls out from underneath the dragon’s body to safety, but not without nearly getting his skull crushed like eggshells. 

But still, you hear the crack. You see the flattened cranium with bright blood, bone shards, and brains pouring out onto the floor of the stadium. The dark, thick insides seep slowly into the sand. The spectators fall to silent horror. And the boy moves no more. 

There he lies on his back, staring at the sky, eyes as alive as they were the day he caught the snitch at the World Cup. He takes a few moments to catch his breath. Then, he stands up, dusty, and proud, wearing a crooked smile. He raises the egg above his head triumphantly.

The dragon keepers seize the chains and jerk them back to get the beast under control. Your unsettling thoughts are cut off by the chaos of the crowd again. 

“A satisfactory performance! Viktor Krum is the first of our champions to get his golden egg!” Dumbledore exclaims, “Let’s see what our judges have to say!” 

He gets a perfect 10 from Igor Karkaroff. You’re too appalled to look away. And you don’t until he’s sent off to the medical tent to get checked for injuries. 

As they prepare for the next champion, you look up at Severus with wide, glossy eyes. “That...was horrible…” you say shakily. 

“There’s three more, and I don’t expect they’ll get any better.” he replies, “So, if you can’t handle this I would recommend leaving and going back to our dorm.”

“N-no! No I can’t...I have to show my support to our champions…” you trail off. Your head hurts. Your throat feels dry. 

Once more, he offers you a drink of butterbeer. This time, you pull it from his hands and take a swig. You cover your mouth again and swallow laboriously, face screwing up to a soured expression. The over-sweet liquid slowly slides down your throat like thick, nasty medicine. You return the drink swiftly, keeping your hand over your mouth, to ensure it doesn’t come back up. 

“If you’re going to be sick, don’t do so on me.” Severus comments half-jokingly. 

The sick feeling passes and you uncover your mouth, “That’s not even funny. Because if it keeps up like this, I will be.” 

“But you’re still bent on staying?” 

“Yes.” 

“Then sit.” he says, “Don’t question it. Just sit.” 

You do. Now, you can no longer see over the backs of the people in front of you. He takes off his cloak and then wraps it around your shoulders. He flicks his wand, and suddenly the cloak feels much heavier than it’s meant to. But it’s not weighing down on you uncomfortably. It’s a secure feeling, like you’re wrapped in a weighted blanket. He hands you the water that had previously been beside him. 

“Sit this next one out. I’ll tell you what happens.” He orders. 

A weak smile crosses your face as you gaze at his ever-stoic expression. 

When Fleur Delacour’s match begins, every time you try to stand up, he pushes you back down by lightly pressing his hand into the crown of your head. 

Part way through the match, you become aware of a mixture of laughter and horrified commotion. Your heart thumps rapidly in your ears. You tug at Severus’s pant leg. 

“Severus, Severus, wait what’s going on?” 

“Her skirt caught on fire.” 

You gulp, “Stars! That poor girl!” 

A collective sigh fills the stadium. 

“She’s just put it out with water.” 

You blurt out questions. “I-is she hurt? Did she burn anything? Oh dear!” your face dusts red as a horrifying thought crosses you mind, “I-it didn’t burn enough fabric that you can see her knickers, can you? How humiliating it would be for that poor girl…” You loathe to think of Miss Delacour getting singed, but you don’t even want to fathom how awful and humiliated she would be if she accidentally flashed her knickers to the whole stadium. She’d have to live with that for the rest of her life! 

He sighs, “No, her skin wasn’t seared, and no, you can’t see her knickers. Honestly, there are worse things that can happen to her while she’s facing a dragon- like, death, for instance. So, how can flashing knickers be one of your main concerns?” 

“I just…humiliation is one of the worst things that can happen to a person…” you trail off, “I’m sure you understand that too, don’t you?” you look up at him with wide pools. His expression reads, _“You know I do.”_

“There we have it, folks! Fleur Delacour is the second champion to have her golden egg! Now! Let us see the scores, shall we?” 

After the scores have been tallied up, Miss Delacour comes in behind Viktor Krum, in second place. Dumbledore announces that there’ll be an intermission, and a flood of relief washes over you. You have fifteen minutes to prepare yourself for the second half. 

“We’re halfway through, Kit.” Snape points out the obvious.

You nod meekly. 

“I’ll be right back.” he tells you. He leaves the stands, probably going off to use the restroom or something. 

Your body feels very tense, even as you sit wrapped up in the weighted cloak that is supposed to be calming you down. However, the sick feeling has gone away. But it’s been replaced by an even tighter knot. Because now it was personal. Because the next two were Hogwarts students, one of which was both in your house, and in your class. Your nerves begin to fuse with bitterness. 

_Intermission. Inter-MISSION. They’re treating this like a show and ignoring the fact that lives are being risked down there!_

With how nervous you are, you don’t even want fathom how they must be feeling. Your twisted stomach growls. 

_No. Not hungry._ You tell yourself. _I don’t feel like eating._ You’d scarcely touched a morsel today. You stare at the ground, pulling the cloak tighter around you. It’s shielding you from the frigid air. 

Severus returns with about five minutes left to spare. He’s carrying a steaming to-go cup of something. He gives it to you. You take it and inhale the strong, herby scent. It’s tea. The cup warms your hands. 

“Severus, you didn’t have to do this…b-but thank you.” you tell him with gratitude. Tea was calming, and light on the stomach. It was very thoughtful of him.

You take a sip, and it singes your tongue. “Ouch! I burnt myself!” 

“Obviously. It’s _hot_ tea, you dunderhead.” he scoffs. He ruffles your messy hair again. You blow a curl out of your face with a huff, looking dryly up at him. He’s smiling. 

Dumbledore’s voice cuts in to start the tournament again. You feel a bit better. 

Until, that is, the dragon chases the rock Cedric transfigured to a Labrador. Your stomach does a flip. The last thing you wanted to see was an innocent dog getting its flesh melted off its bones. You tightly clutch Severus’s arm. 

You force yourself to look away from the excited yellow dog that thinks it's found a new playmate. 

Tearing your burning eyes away, you turn to watch Cedric make a b-line to the wiry nest while the dragon is distracted. He reaches for the egg, and that’s when the dragon's neck snaps back face him. It's eyes burn and smoke flares out of its nostrils. 

It rears back, inhaling sharply, before a jet of flame breaks through sharp teeth and flashes in your terrified eyes. He tries in vain to dodge, and it strikes him right in the back. He lets out a cry of pain, face twisting into a distorted wince as it burns right through the fabric and leaves a glaring, red brand on the flesh of his sweaty shoulder blade. 

He hugs the egg to his body with one hand, grasping the sizzling skin with the other. You screw your eyes shut. You can practically feel the seething sensation. 

The air reeks of acrid smoke and sour sweat.

And down there, Cedric grins broadly at the spectators, forcing a smile through his wincing. 

Your throat burns like his back, as you force down bile and tears. 

During Harry’s fight against the vicious Hungarian Horntail, you can’t even watch. Not after the dragon’s tail sends his skinny body colliding into a rock. Then with sharp teeth, it's lunging at him with its snapping jaws. You hide your face in Severus's shoulder. He’s gone rigid, frozen stiff as he observes the match below. 

Judging by the perceptions of the audience, Harry has way more sickeningly close calls than the rest of them, but yet, he becomes the fastest champion to retrieve the golden egg. 

The cheers are even more explosive than before. You feel hot and constricted in your clothes and the cloak. You take the cloak off and hand it back. You draw in a breath. 

“It’s over,” you gasp, “It’s finally over…thank stars…” you rock on your feet. Your vision starts to blur. “Thank God…” you continue to rock back and forth. Everything is spinning. You see Severus staring at you with concern. His mouth moves to say your name, but you can barely hear him. 

And then, you faint. Your body crashes to the floor with a thump. 

Severus spits a curse word. You see nothing, but you can hear the distant sound of garbled voices and feel the suffocating air become even more unbearable as heated bodies crowd you. 

You hear his low voice hissing contemptuously at everyone to back away and give you air. He fans you with something. And then, the now-cold tea splashes on your face. Your blurry vision comes into focus, and you see Severus and Minerva hovering over you. They look very concerned.

You sit up abruptly. Your head spins. McGonagall’s gentle hand finds your shoulder, “Easy, now, dear.” she says. Both she and Severus help you up. Once you are up, you stagger away from her and into Severus’s arms. If he has anything to say to you, he’s refraining for some reason. 

“What happened, Kit?” Minerva asks. 

You can barely look into her concerned expression as you struggle to explain, “The task…I thought I could handle…but seeing all those close calls…I-I-I just panicked, I, I couldn’t…” you can’t think clearly. Your mind is muddled, “...I’m…” your breath quickens and your pulse crescendos. 

_“Shhhh,”_ Severus hisses, putting his hands on your shoulders to calm you. You look up at him. He looks away from you and at Professor McGonagall. “I’ll handle this, Professor.” he says. She looks to you for confirmation. 

You nod vigorously, eyes pleading. You. Want. Out. 

“Very well.” she replies. And then you’re escorted away. You’ve never been more relieved to leave the quidditch stadium in your life. 

Back inside the castle and your room, Severus draws bath water and scolds you for not telling him you needed to leave. You’re sitting on the toilet lid, and he’s filling the tub. Steam wafts up from the water. 

“I thought I could handle it…” you say lamely, “But I was wrong.”

“Clearly, considering you _fainted_ in front of me… _again_!” he exclaims. 

During your first year, exhaustion, stress, and lack of nutrients during the tech week of your first production had caused you to pass at the breakfast table. You had to take an entire day off from classes to recoup. 

“I’m sorry I worried you, Severus. I didn’t mean to. Honest.” He inhales and exhales deeply. 

“Obviously not.” his voice softens, “I _know_ that. Just don’t. Let it happen. Again.” 

“I’ll be more careful.” you vow. 

“You’d better be.” he answers.

He turns to glance at the progress of the water and the suds welling up from the foamy bubbles. 

“The next task is not until February the 24th.” he says, “Considering how _well_ this one went, I’m tempted not to let you go to the next one.”

“I’m _going.”_ you reply defiantly, “They’re all different, maybe this one will turn out better.” 

“Yes, because putting children in the Black Lake in winter is a brilliant idea.” 

Your stomach turns, “W-with the giant squid and the murder mermaids!?” you exclaim. 

“Yes, with the giant squid and “murder” mermaids, Kit.” he repeats, “And the risk of hypothermia to top it off.” 

You cross your arms over your chest and huff, “This Tournament is stupid!” you say, “At this rate, the only reason I would even want to go now is so I can find even more things to protest.” 

Snape chuckles quietly, and then turns off the water and looks back at you. He steps to the side, “Strip,” he commands, “And get in.” 

“I-I’m sorry…?” 

“You heard me. Strip. And get. In. The water.” he enunciates. 

_Ohhhhh ho…so demanding…_ It sends a gentle shudder through your body. 

You blink at him for a moment before you stand, turn your back, and slowly start to undress while he waits by the door with his arms crossed over his chest, fingers tapping on his sleeve. 

“You’re acting abnormally shy for how intimate we’ve been.” He comments dryly. 

“You’re literally standing there and staring into my soul with those smoldering eyes while I undress, Severus. Your stoic gaze is intimidating.” 

“Good.” he answers with a smirk, “Just as I want it.” Your ball up your shirt and throw it at him. While it’s covering his face, you hastily rip off the rest of your clothing and step into the tub, sinking into the warm water and foamy suds. You lean back and sigh. The water feels heavenly on your tense body. 

You hear the rustle of fabric and he splashes in beside you. You exchange glances. He leans over the rim, folding his arms and resting his cheek on them, black hair fanning out and curling over the side. You scoot over beside him and place yourself lightly against his back. And then you become aware of your reflections in the mirror across from you. You still look a little sickly from today’s stress, but you notice a certain brightness in Severus’s face that you had never noticed before. It’s not blushes, or sex flush. Rather, it’s just a little bit of color. 

You raise your face from his back and kiss his cheek. When you do, the color gets a little bit brighter. And then you realize he’s studying your reflections too. 

The bath together plays out just as it did before: no sex, just…trust.


	7. Dancing Shoes

VII. Dancing Shoes

Dumbledore seems unusually excited about this meeting. Inside the staff room, over cups of tea, he stands and claps his hands together. 

“As you all know, one of the most anticipated events of the Triwizard Tournament is the Yule Ball.” He says, “Seeing as Hogwarts is hosting, our school’s dancing must be _en pointe._ Therefore, all students are required to take dancing lessons. Since we haven’t got ample time to hire dance instructors, it is the responsibility of all the Heads of House to conduct a temporary dance class. I.e, you must teach all of your students to dance well-enough that the school is not humiliated.” 

All the heads of house except for Severus Snape seem to be rather excited about this. 

“The lessons will start this coming Monday and continue on until the Yule Ball.” he says, “That gives you all about a month to prepare! Good luck~” And then he dismisses all of you. 

-xXx-

“I can’t believe this codswallop.” Severus huffs, “I’m the Potions Master, not a dance instructor. Do I know how to dance? Yes. It used to be required as part of the curriculum. Do I like dancing? No. Do I want to teach it? Absolutely not. But my house will not be humiliated so, regrettably, I have no choice.”

You’re relieved you don’t have to teach dance. You can barely dance yourself. 

“Speaking of teaching dance,” he starts.

_Uh oh._

“You’ll be joining my lessons, no question of it.” he says. 

“I have to DANCE in front of YOUR house!?” you exclaim, “Severus…you and I both know they’re going to laugh at me! My dancing is atrocious—and by “atrocious” I mean _nonexistent!”_

“Yes, I know. I’ve seen your “skills”.” he says. 

“Severus, you don’t have to put a double emphasis on it!” your stomach churns, “You know I’m not comfortable dancing! Especially in front of people!” 

“…And yet, you continue to make fun of yourself and to be self-deprecating on that topic all for your own amusement. So, what difference does it make if I play along as well?” he asks.

“You’re supposed to support and encourage me! Not tease me in front of your students!” you exclaim, feeling a slight sting in your chest. 

“Their dancing skills will be just as incompetent, I’ve no doubt of it.” he replies, “If they try to tease you, then I’ll make them demonstrate their “exceptional” abilities in front of everyone. Only I’ve the right to jest, they’re not allowed.”

_Aww…._

“I’ll let you use my theatre for practice if you promise to give me lessons beforehand so I don’t make a complete fool of myself.” you say, “All we’ve got to do is clear all the chairs and it’ll be a ballroom again. And we can use the stage for demonstration.” 

“Fine.” he says, “You get two lessons this weekend, and the rest of them will be shared with my students.” 

“We have an accord!” you declare. 

-xXx-

On Saturday morning, you’re up on time, making your way promptly to breakfast. You’d tied and buttoned your robes, because shorts and a long-sleeved, cropped jumper weren’t appropriate for a teacher to wear down to the Great Hall. 

There’s not that many people there right now, as most of the students sleep in on the weekends, and some of the teachers go home. There’s a small group of Beauxbatons girls and a couple of Durmstrang boys, some of the younger Hogwarts students, and a minute fraction of older students. The buffet-style breakfast tables are set up at the back of the room. Your stomach growls loudly at the prospect of food, which smells wonderful. You walk to the table and pick up a plate, and you find yourself next to Cedric Diggory, with some younger students on your other side. 

You look up at him, “Good morning, Cedric.” You say. He hears you, he turns, and smiles. 

“Good morning, Professor Oakley.” he turns away with a yawn. Because yawning is contagious, you do the same. You scoop eggs onto your plate. 

“How’s that burn on your back doing?” you ask.

“Oh, it’s alright.” he says, “It’s almost gone.” 

“Good job, by the way.” 

He nods, “Thanks.” He finishes by pouring himself a glass of orange juice, but then he looks back at you with genuine concern, “People are saying you fainted after the first task finished. Is that true, Professor?” 

“It is.” you reply softly. 

“My stars, that’s awful. Are you doing alright, Professor?” 

“Well, I’m doing better now. It was just a lot for me to handle. It’s very stressful watching your students risk their lives. I-it’s like being a worried parent, you know?”

“I understand that.” he replies. 

“But, of course, that doesn’t mean I won’t be rooting for you!” you finish, “Keep doing your best!” you tell him.

He smiles, “Thanks, I will.” he says, and then clears his throat, “Well, Professor Oakley, it was nice talking to you. Have a good day.”

“Have a good day, Cedric.” you reply. And then he leaves and goes to the Hufflepuff table. You finish by giving yourself some fruit and toast with jam and steeping an Earl Grey tea bag in hot water. You squash the bag against the cup with a stirring stick, and then drop in three sugar cubes, which you break up and stir. You then saunter over to the high table, your drink sloshing almost dangerously, you put the plate and cup down on the table. You sit down and briefly give Severus’s arm a squeeze, leaning against his shoulder for a second, since kissing isn’t allowed at the High Table. 

“Good morning!” you declare, smiling brightly at him. His face is dusted slightly pink. 

“How are you such a pain to get out of bed in the morning but so chipper once you’ve gotten down to breakfast?” he asks, “I’ll never understand.” 

“Because I’m happy to see you, silly~ and I wake up rather quickly. And, scientifically speaking, your brain is sharper in the morning too. Fact of the day.” 

“Is it, though?” he questions, “I find it hard to believe since I’ve caught one or two students falling asleep in my morning class before.” 

“Supposedly.” you reply. You take a dainty bite of scrambled eggs. 

You hear the thump of a goblet against the table after Severus has taken a drink of orange juice. “Oh, by the by.” 

“Hmm?” you look up to acknowledge him. 

“You’re so small you blended in with the first years that were next to you.” He says. 

You smack him in the arm, “Oh shut it!” He ruffles your hair just to get under your skin more. 

“Oi! I brushed it, don’t mess it up!” you exclaim. Then, you tug one of his black locks for revenge. 

“Aye! Though you be but little, you are fierce.” He says. 

“Did you just use a Shakespeare quote on me!?” you exclaim, flushing red. 

“Not technically. Those weren’t the exact words as scripted.” he replies. 

“Yes, but most of the words you stole!” you protest. 

“Yes, and he stole all the plots for his plays to be conventional or whatever.” 

“Hey, I told you that!” you exclaim, “I thought my talk of Shakespeare made you bored! Why are you using my own knowledge against me?” 

“To show I was listening, obviously.” 

“Oh…” _Usually he’d be more snarky than that, but I’ll take it!_

-xXx- 

After breakfast, you stroll to the theatre classroom. You unlock the double doors, and step into the open room, crossing across the aisle between the stairs, and climbing up the stairs to the stage. You clap your hands, turning on the stage lights. 

Then, you use your wand to get the record set up to be played when you begin practicing. 

“Tomorrow, we can move all of the chairs so that there’s room for everyone in your house to practice.” you say, “Ahem. Anyway. I’m going to go grab my dance shoes from backstage, I’ll be right back.” 

“Dance shoes?” 

“From the time I was eighteen until I started teaching here, I did musical theatre. So, I’ve got some dancing experience. I just remember nothing. Singing and acting is definitely more my forte.” 

He rolls his eyes, “Typical.”

“Just a tick~” you say, and then you vanish backstage. You open the cabinet back there and take your dance shoes from inside it. You take off your shoes, wrap and powder your feet, and then slip them on. When you return, you find that he’s shed his coat and waistcoat, cuffed his sleeves to his elbows, and pulled his hair into a ponytail. You take off your robe and drape it over the back of one of the chairs up front. You clip back the strands of hair with your lotus flower clip. You rejoin him on stage. 

“Before we even get going, we need to stretch.” he says, “Unless you fancy a pulled muscle, which I most certainly don’t.” 

“I want to be able to dance at the ball, thank you. So, I’m with you there.” you reply. And with that, the two of you stretch for a warm-up. 

-xXx-

“Let’s get going. I don’t want to dance all day.” he says. You face each other. You go forward to put yourself in what you think is the starting position. You place your hand upon his waist. 

“No. You’ve got it all wrong. Your hand goes up on my shoulder.” he takes your wrist and moves it up to where it’s supposed to be. He places his slender, rough fingers firmly upon your waist, before sliding up to your back. They send a shudder of gooseflesh down your spine when you feel the skin to skin contact.

“We’re going to start with the most basic step of all.” he says, “Your feet need to move in a square. I’ll demonstrate. Don’t get stepped on.” He lets go of you and steps back, with his hands still upon your back, and yours upon his shoulder. “Watch my feet.” He orders. You look down, “Starting with my feet together, I do a small step forward with my left, like so…” he demonstrates. When his foot plants on the ground he says, “One.” He continues, “Next, I bring my right foot up so it's parallel with my left…two. Finally, my left foot comes to meet my right…three. Got that?” 

You nod. 

“Show me then.” 

You go to step forward. He rolls his eyes. 

“That’s your right foot.” he says, “Try it again.”

“Oh! Right, sorry…” you try again, stepping with your left foot. But you step forward too far and bump into his chest, “Oops…” you look up, “Sorry…” 

He rolls his eyes, “You look like you’re trying to step across the lake without getting your foot wet, Kit. There’s no need for that. It’s a small step forward.” he scoffs. So, you go back where you started and start over. Small step forward. Good. You pause. 

“Right foot parallel.” Snape says gruffly. You nod and do so. 

“…And together.” you step with your right foot again. 

“You mixed them up again. You bring your left foot in. Not your right. This isn’t line dancing. From the top. Left forward. Right parallel. Left together.” 

You back up again. Starting with your feet together, you step with your left foot forward. 

“You’re stepping over the lake again. Small steps.” he says. 

“R-right…” You back up and start again. Small step forward with your left. Bring your right foot parallel, left together. 

“Finally.” Snape says, “Do it three more times.” So, you do, saying the movements allowed. 

“Left forward, 1, Right parallel 2, Left together 3…” 

Evidently, he still isn’t satisfied when you’re through, so he makes you do it three more times after that. And then twice more after that. And then a final time for good measure. 

“Now for the second half.” he says, “The same. But backwards. Right step back. 4. Left back parallel. 5. Right step together. 6.” He demonstrates as he says the counts and moves aloud. You try to copy him. He’s not amused. 

“You’re starting with your left when you need to start with your right, and your right when you need to start on your left, my stars…” he huffs. 

“Sorry…I keep getting them all mixed up…” you frown. Your hands suddenly feel very clammy and you feel very stupid. 

“Yes, I can tell.” he replies, “Try again. Right. Left. Right.” You do it again, and this time you get it. 

“Alright. Now do it six more times.” 

-xXx-

Once you do that, you run through the first half again, before he says: 

“Good. Now. We put the sequences together. We’ll go slow.” You clear your throat, draw in a deep breath, “Do you need me to demonstrate again?” 

“I think I’ll be alright.” you say. 

“Thank stars. Now then. Count with me. Feet together.” he says, “Forward left. Right parallel. Left together. Back right. Left parallel. Right together. Good. Again. Forward left. Right parallel. Left together. Back right. Left parallel. Right together…1, 2, 3, 4, 5,6…1,2,3,4,5,6…”

[This continues for quite a while.] 

It goes fine until he speeds his counting too fast, and you stumble into his chest again. 

“You’re too tense.” he says, “You need to relax.” 

“I’m nervous…” you say. 

“Why? There’s no one else in the room but us. No one is here watching us or teasing you. I might be harsh, and I might be judging you, but that’s my job. I’m your instructor.” 

“I just…” you sigh and sit down on the stage, fiddling with your hands, “Well…you said if I’m going to be your date, I have to get this down…because I can’t humiliate our houses…” 

“That’s what you’re concerned about?” he says, “Kit, you’re being ridiculous. I was being sarcastic. I’m still going with you, regardless. And if you don’t get this, we just won’t dance.” 

“Oh…” you feel relief wash over you, before you’re hit with a pang, “But I want to, though…It sounds romantic…” 

“Yeah? So, do I, believe it or not. If anything, that should serve as your motivation.” He replies. 

You nod. 

He sighs, “As much as I detest stopping in the middle of things, it seems like you could use a break. Five minutes, and we’ll try again.” He says. He walks over and picks up your waters from the edge of the stage and hands you yours. Then, he joins you by your side. You lean into his shoulder and glance up at him. 

“Thanks for taking time to help me with this, Severus.” You say gratefully. 

“I expect payment, you know.” he says. 

“I’m sorry, what?” you give him a look. 

“Payment.” he replies, then he leans into your ear and purrs, “In our bed.” 

A shudder ripples through your body, “Okay, darling~ but I’d give you a good shag any night of the week. All you have to do is ask me~ Honestly, I’d love to experiment. Stella knows all about that sort of stuff…” 

“Experiment how?” 

“Umm…blindfolds, bindings, temperature…electricity…kinky stuff, you know…” 

He half-chokes on his water. 

“I know it’s a barking mad suggestion…but we’ve tried everything else, so I just thought that perhaps it might make things a bit more interesting…spice them up if you will.” 

“My stars, you really took my “be frank with me” statement to heart at last.” he says. 

“I’m sorry, was that _too_ forward?” 

“I didn’t think you were capable of such sinful thoughts.” He says. 

“Oh…” your shoulders sag. 

“They’re sins I’d be willing to commit.” 

You feel giddy inside, and heat pumps through your veins. 

“…But to do it safely,” you say, “We have to do some research.” 

“Well, obviously.” He huffs, “Anyway. We ought to get back to practice, now.” 

And so, you get up and stretch again.

“This time, I’m going to dance with you.” he replies, “Instead of just holding you by the hips and watching your footwork. Now then. Your hand. My shoulder. My hand. Your back. I trust I don’t need to review what we do with our other hands?” 

“No.”

“Good. From the top, then.” He takes your hand, and you begin again, “If I step forward, you step back…” The two of you begin to move in your box step, and although it is by no means perfect, and you stumble and step on each other's feet a number of times, you leave the lesson knowing you’ve improved. And that makes you happy. 

-xXx-

And the next day, you try it with music. It’s a bit of a hot mess at first, but it still proves to be fun somehow. 

“Step on my foot again, Kit, I dare you…” he says, fighting a smirk. 

“What will you do if I step on it?” 

“I’ll make you do box step drills until you burn holes in your shoes.” he teases, “And you’ll have to complete your own teaching.” 

“Harsh.” you say. 

“Obviously.” 

-xXx-

You don’t know how it happens, but somehow your joint dancing lessons with the Slytherins go rather well, despite the fact that several times, you feel like you could wilt under Draco Malfoy’s cold gaze. (And you hate yourself for allowing a 14-year-old to get to you this way.) 

_Like father, like son…_ you think bitterly. 

“I’m going to demonstrate both the leading and following positions. Watch carefully.” Severus is pacing the stage, looking down at the assembled students, who are all sitting on the empty floor like schoolchildren. “Kit, get up here.” he motions you forward with his hand. So, you leave your spot where you had been sitting with some seventh-year girls and climb the stairs to the stage. 

“Just stand still first.” he says to you, “I’m going to show them one position at a time before we demonstrate them together.” 

He addresses the class again. “The leader firmly places their hand upon the back of the follower and takes their other hand like so.” he demonstrates, “The position of the hand on the waist/back depends on the height of your partner and whatever is most comfortable,” he explains, “Now, because Professor Oakley is over a foot shorter than me,” 

[Some students chuckle.]

_You just can’t resist making fun of my shortness, can you, ya prick?_

“…I place my hand firmly upon their back. Our other hands…like so. Do not entwine your fingers, it’ll make movement much more difficult. Now, if Professor Oakley were the one leading…” he looks down and nods to you. You study him. When you do nothing, he rolls his eyes and says lowly: “Put your hand. On my waist.” Shakily, you do. 

“…Their hand would go on my waist.” He then snaps his gaze to the students again, “Let me _enunciate_ this. Hand _— **waist.**_ I know how distasteful adolescent minds are. If I catch anyone’s hand farther down than that…” 

[This had nothing to do with the fact that yours was wandering, because you wouldn’t be stupid enough to behave that way in front of students, but everything to do with the fact that you were addressing a group of high-school aged adolescents.] 

“…Keep paying attention. Follower’s position…” he grasps your wrist and moves it, to rest upon his shoulder, “Hand—shoulder. And again, the leader’s hand is firmly upon their partner’s back or waist…Any questions?” 

Nope. 

“Good. Now. All of you get up and find a partner, I don’t care who partners with who, or whether each set includes one boy and one girl. Just pair up, or we waste time lollygagging. You have one minute. Get going.”

A shuffle of feet and an explosion of chatter indicates the scramble for partners. Of course, there’s an odd number of students, so not everyone is paired up. One girl, a quiet, sullen one, is left standing by herself. 

“Of course, there’s an odd number.” He huffs, “Arya.” he says gruffly. She looks up.

“Yes Professor?” 

“Come here and partner up with Kit.” 

She nods, and the tenseness of her shoulders seems to release some. “Yes sir.” 

-xXx-

“We have two days of practice left from now.” Snape says, pacing the stage and facing the students (4th year and above). Because he’s head of house and because he’s intimidating, he is the only one who can get one-hundred-percent obedience from them all.

“The switching we’ll be working on today had better not be a jumbled mess like it was yesterday.” he warns. And that’s all it takes for the execution of the speed round to be not too shabby at all. 

And with lessons out of the way, the holidays buzz cheerfully in the air. 

The Christmas decorations are even more impressive than usual this year. Icicles had been attached to the marble of the moving staircases, and the dozen Christmas trees in the Great Hall had been extravagantly and meticulously decorated with shimmering holly berries to golden owls that hooted and moved. 

There were several rumors going around. The most amusing you found to be was that Dumbledore had ordered eight-hundred barrels of mulled mead from Madam Rosmerta. He had also apparently booked a very famous Wizarding musical group, although you had no idea who they were. 

You skip about the corridors, enjoying the looseness of the slightly oversized Christmas sweater you have on today (which Jareth is also wearing to match you). You pass the suits of armor, and they begin to sing the familiar Christmas carols that you hum along to…

And then, it’s Christmas Eve. 

“Severus.” you start on the day of the ball, “I hope you don’t mind this, but Renee and Eliza are coming by soon to help us get ready.” You’re busying yourself tying the strings closed on a long, flowy shirt he never wore. It was comfortable, and roomy, and it fit you like a nightgown because you were so little. You were sitting on top of the made-up bed, your hair still damp from your shower. 

“I’ll be down in my office until I have to get dressed so I don’t much care, as long as you clean up after yourselves.”

“I said ‘ **us’** for a reason.” you say, “They wanted me to ask if you would like help with your hair and such.”

“No thanks. That’s not necessary.” he replies, “All it needs is a wash and a brushing.” You knew well he probably hadn’t washed it in at least three days, because it was starting to look all greasy again.

“Well alright~ I figured you would say no. But I just wanted to put the offer on the table.” you reply.

“…By the by, we’re leaving the ball early,” he says. 

“Why?” you ask, “It’s such a rare opportunity to go to it.” 

“Because you still owe me bedroom payment for your dance lessons.” he replies. You blush and bite your lip.

“Oh…well…I have no problem leaving early if it means I get a good shag out of it.” you comment, “Speaking of leaving, you aren’t allowed in your office until you come here and give me a kiss, first. Also, why are you going down to work? Darling, it’s Christmas Eve.” 

“Because I’d rather work than be in a room full of giggling, over-excited twenty-somethings.” 

“I understand…but will you at least say hello? They’re family, remember?” 

He rolls his eyes, “Fine. But a “Hello” is all they’re getting out of me.”

You do a bit of a hop from where you sit, “Wonderful! Thank you, Severus~ now get over here so I can kiss you…will you _please?_ ” 

“You’re demanding an awful lot of me today.” he huffs, making his way over to you. 

“Says the one that’s all lusty for sex tonight.” you respond. He leans forward, pressing his hands into the mattress. He half-closes his eyes, parting his lips. You feel his hot breath on your face as you reach for the back of his neck. 

“If your friends weren’t about to show up at our door, I’d take you right now.” he replies. 

“I know you would. And I’d let you too.” 

You press your lips to his, and they meld together perfectly. But he ruins it when he nips your soft, moist flesh. 

You let out a surprise yelp, “Ouch! You bit me! How rude!” you exclaim when he pulls away. 

He smirks slyly. 

“You’re mean.” you say. 

“I _know_.” he replies, “We’ve been through this countless times.” 

“Give me a real kiss, you brute. _Without_ –” you’re cut off when his lips meet yours again, this time for a soft, tender kiss. When he pulls away, he says, 

“Quit whining.”

Then you poke his nose because you know he hates it. His gaze hardens. 

“How dare—” you smile softly, and Eskimo kiss him. 

There’s a loud knock. Your heads whip toward the door in tandem. “Open up, Kitiot!” Eliza calls from the other side. 

“Oh, would you look at that, your friends are here. That’s my cue to go for a shower.” he pulls himself up, the springs squeak with the movement. He goes to the wardrobe and pulls out his weekend clothes, which consist of a black button-up shirt, a green tweed vest, and black slacks. He disappears into the bathroom. 

There’s another knock on the door, “Are you in there, Kitty?” Renee asks, “Do we need to come back later?” 

“Be right there, just a tick~” you reply. You hop out of bed and wrestle into a pair of short gym shorts, and tie the shirt in a knot, before going to the door and opening it. You’re greeted by the smiling faces of both young women. 

“Hello, hello!” you exclaim, hugging them together before going in for individual hugs. Then, you step aside to let them in the flat. 

Eliza’s got two fairly large cosmetic bags, and Renee’s holding an armful of...dress bags? 

“Wait…don’t tell me…” you look, “You two are going to the Yule Ball tonight as well?” 

“Surprise~” Renee replies. You squeal with joy.

“We talked to Dumbledore, and he said that since we’re such good friends of yours, he’s alright with us attending tonight.” Eliza says, “Where do you want us to put this stuff?” 

“You can lay your dresses across the bed, and the makeup bags can go on the coffee table. Unfortunately, we won’t have the bathroom for about ten or fifteen minutes, because Severus is showering right now.” 

“That’s fine.” Eliza replies, setting the makeup bags down. Renee makes her way over towards your bed, and you quickly smooth down the duvet, and fix the pillows. When she sets the dresses down, she becomes aware of the cat sitting on top of the bed covers and scrutinizing you all. 

“Oh, hello there.” she says softly. She lets Lily sniff her hand, and a nudge from her freckled nose and ticklish whiskers grants the tall witch permission to touch her. It also draws Eliza’s attention, too. She joins the two of you. Renee steps back to let her say hello. 

“Hello sweetie~” Eliza drawls. Lily is just as welcoming to her too, “You must be Lily.”

You nod, “Yep~” Jareth lets out a sharp cry from his cage. 

“Oh, stop it.” you say, opening the cage to give him a pet, “You know I love you most.” you stick your arm out, and he climbs on, shimmying across it to get to your shoulder. 

Lily tires of the attention and walks away, curling up in the cushioned basket she hardly ever slept in. Both your friends give Jareth a quick pet. 

“You have to show me your dresses.” 

And so, they gladly do. Both gowns are long-sleeved. Eliza’s is black and lacy, with a poofy skirt and a heart-shaped neckline. She’s got a lovely red and black lace choker to go with it, along with her usual witch hat and pointy boots.

Renee’s is a beautiful silvery blue, with a built-up neckline and fitted sleeves that are slightly sheer. She has a cropped, white fur jacket to go over it. Just like Eliza’s, the skirt flares out all poofy. It is embellished with flowers. It reminds you of Cinderella. 

“Both of these are lovely.” you say.

“Thanks~” Renee replies. 

“So, let’s see yours, then, Kit.” Eliza says. 

“Righto! Of course!” you walk over to the wardrobe. You sift through the many sets of black, dark green, and dark blue garments, pastel robes, and Victorian blouses, to the outfit still residing in its bag. You tug it out and hang it on the hook on the back of the dorm room door and reveal it. 

“Ooo~” Renee begins. 

“That looks just like you.” Eliza replies. 

“Mmm hmm. I’m so excited to put it on and do my hair and make-up.” 

“That mullet of yours could use a bit of TLC, Darling~” Eliza comments. 

You chuckle and run your fingers through it, “Believe me, I know.” 

“I know exactly what I want to do with it.” Renee says, “You’ll let me, won’t you?”

“Absolutely. That’s why you’re here.” you answer, “By the way, would either you like some tea or something while we wait?” 

“Sure, I’d love some.” Eliza answers gratefully, “What about you, Renee?”

“Yeah. I certainly wouldn’t mind a cup of tea, either.” 

“Righto~” and so, you half-skip into the kitchenette to put the water to boil. You return to the living space promptly and join them to chat on the couch. Within a few moments following that, the door to the bathroom opens, letting out the hot, steamy air from inside the small extension. Severus walks out fully clothed, with his hair still damp. 

“Afternoon Professor Snape.” Eliza greets. He glances at your trio of twenty-somethings on the couch. 

“Afternoon Miss Forrester, Miss Blanc.” he nods curtly. And then he looks to you. 

“I’ll be back up in time to change and escort you to the ball.” he says. 

“Alright~ see you later for now, darling.” you reply. He exits the room. The door closes behind him, and within a short few seconds following that, the kettle begins to scream. 

You spend the rest of the afternoon getting ready. You all do your make-up at the same time, and then you and Eliza both pitch in to do Renee’s long brown hair. You put it up in an elegant updo and adorn it with flowers. Eliza’s is short, pink, and already curly, so not much else can be done with it. 

Once that’s finished, you sit and chat quietly with the ladies as Renee tames your messy mullet and adorns your hair with witchy charms and hair feathers that match your outfit. She also puts in a thin braid.

“There~” she says, “Alright Eliza, your turn~” 

“Yep.” She raises her wand, and with a flick, she dyes the ends of your hair a Christmas green. 

“Ta da~” she sing-songs. You look at yourself in the mirror and smile. Your freckled face is warm and full of life. You have only done enough makeup to accentuate your features, although you’d added some frosty glitter because it was Christmas. Your hair is soft, and perfectly adorned. It isn’t over-done, but it’s done just enough to highlight the whimsical aspect of your personality. 

“I can’t wait to see the whole look! I love what the two of you did with my hair! Thank you, thank you!” You hop up from your seat and then grab your outfit, which you put on in the main room while Eliza and Renee tidy up the bathroom. 

And then at long last you’re standing before your body mirror and completing the whole ensemble. You straighten the wrinkles on the crimson red shirt. You adjust the warm ivory neckerchief, scrunching the ruffles to make them stand out. Then, you clip on your green brooch. You turn next to the second layer, the waistcoat. It’s a lovely shade of emerald green. It’s look like a tailcoat without sleeves. The back train reaches your ankles, and it flares out like a ballgown.

Once that’s done, you smooth out the fabric a final time, before reaching for your waist cincher. It’s a beautiful oaken brown color, and the leather smells crisp and fresh. You put it on over the waistcoat to give your waist more definition, tightening the crisscrossing laces in front.

Next, you bend down, and button the crimson cufflinks on the hems of your ivory breeches. You dust some wayward cat hair from ivory stockings. You slip into a golden yellow coat. The shoulders are princess-like and puffy, while the rest of the long sleeve is nicely fitted. Once it is on, you slide on arm garters, tightening them just below the shoulder puffs. 

Finally, you step into the brown colonial shoes to finish off the look. 

You do a quick turn in the mirror, the emerald of your “skirt” twirling about your ankles before you smile at Eliza and Renee across the room. 

“You look lovely, darling~” Eliza coos. Renee nods before she checks the time on her pocket watch. 

“It’s about 7:30,” she says, “If the ball starts at 8:00 tonight, we should probably head down soon.” 

“Severus should be coming up any minute.” you reply, “Although you don’t have to wait on us. We’ll meet you down there.” 

“Are you sure you’re alright with that?” Renee asks. 

You take her hand and pat the back of it, offering a big smile, “Absolutely~” 

“Well, okay. I guess we’ll see you at the ball then~” Eliza finishes. Then, she offers an arm, “My Lady~” Renee curtsies and takes her elbow, and then they lift the hems of their dresses and make their way. You smile after them and sigh, sitting down on your bed and waiting. Severus appears just moments later, barely stealing a glance before he takes his yule ball attire into the bathroom to get dressed. When he returns, he’s in dark blue wool- a long coat, trousers, and the usual white shirt underneath. He walks out of the bathroom brushing his hair. It looks soft and smooth, much different from usual. It’s also not a fluffy mess. It falls neatly, in dark, delicate waves. 

“The blue looks nice on you.” you say. 

“And it’s nice to not be blinded by yellow when I look at you.” he responds, “And I can tell you took the “Yule” part of the dance rather seriously.” 

“W-well, thank you! I tried~” 

“Ahem,” He offers an arm, “Shall we?” 

“Of course.” you reply. You take him by the crook of the elbow, and then you leave the room to head down to the ball, lifting the train of the skirt-like part of the ensemble as you walk.

  
  
  



	8. Dirty Dancing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: SEXUAL CONTENT AHEAD. AS USUAL, IT WILL BE MARKED AND BOLDED WITH AN "AHEM".

VIII. Dirty Dancing

Once you’ve gotten down there, the Great Hall has been transformed into a winter wonderland, with rich green Christmas trees, sparkling snow-like speckles across the enchanted air, and slick and glimmering giant icicles from each pillar and arch. There’s a massive open space for a dance floor that looks like the floor of an ice rink, and the normal tables have been cleared to make room for round ones with silvery tablecloths, and icy centerpieces. You gasp with wonder. The Great Hall already looked magnificent every Christmas, but not as magnificent as this. 

Severus pushes through the crowd of students, and you keep a firm hold on his elbow as you find your way to the staff table and you sit down. The Procession of the Champions is meant to start. After the first dance, dinner will be served, and then the event will commence. 

At the thought of this, your stomach does a flip flop. At long last it was time to put your month of practice to the test. You glance at McGonagall on your side. 

“You look very pretty, Minerva.” you say, noticing her emerald and black dress robes. She smiles softly. With her make up on, she looks brighter and softer than her usual harsh, stern face. 

“Well, thank you very much, Kit.” she replies, “You look quite lovely as well. Who did your hair?” 

“Oh, Renee and Eliza did, Ma’am.” 

“Hi~” Eliza interjects from across the table. You look up, face lighting up when you see them sitting directly across from you. 

“Well, my compliments to you both. It looks very nice.” She says to them.

“Oh, thank you.” Renee replies in her soft, airy tone. 

Severus glances at the time on his pocket watch, “The Procession is about to start.” he says. And soon enough, everyone is standing up and getting into position. The tap of a baton fills the air, and the entire hall falls to silence. Then the processional fanfare fills the air, and you stiffen with the shocking power of the music. The doors swing open, and the four champions appear, leading their dates with them. Cedric Diggory and Cho Chang, Fleur Delacour and Roger Davies, Viktor Krum and Hermione Granger (although in your opinion he’s a bit old for her), and lastly, a very nervous looking Harry Potter and his overexcited partner, Parvati Patil. Applause echoes in the air as they cross the walkway to the icy-looking dance floor. Once they’re situated, the doors slam shut, and the hall falls to silence again. Someone coughs. All eyes are turned towards the assembled group. Even from your spot at the table, you can see Harry swallow anxiously. Through clenched teeth, Miss Patil gives him a low order. Professor Flitwick taps the baton on the stand. Then he raises it, turns and the music begins. 

And the students begin a fast-tempo waltz that makes you think _oh shit…I don’t know if I can…_

The four pairs dance for a few measures, before you feel McGonagall’s presence disappear from your side. Dumbledore has whisked her out on the dance floor. And then, one by one, more couples start to make their way with smiling, rosy faces. You scan your gaze around warily, and glance at Severus, who glances at you. And then Igor Karkaroff is gone with his date too. Severus watches him leave, and then he meets your eyes again. The urge is too real. Your hands are all clammy. Butterflies flutter in your stomach. _Think of it as a musical, there’s other pairs, not all eyes are going to be on you…_ So, you draw in a deep breath, look back at Severus, and nod. You grab his hand and you whisk him onto the dance floor. You get into position, and before you have time to fully process, you’re beginning a fast-paced box step. 

You put your trust in your love, letting him lead you into turns, and dips, changes, and a chasse or two, the long train of your waistcoat twirling about as you spin. His hands find your waist to lift you with the trill of the lovely music, before you step back into basic position. If you get lost, he puts you back on track by mouthing counts. 

Despite a couple flubs, you manage to execute the waltz. You feel even better when you catch Eliza and Renee near you during a turn. Pretty soon, you’re enjoying yourself, smiling broadly. And he smiles softly at you. The Great Hall vanishes to a blur as you’re absorbed in him and the music. 

Despite that you begin to have fun though, you’re relieved when the music stops, and the applause fills the air. You practically yank Severus back to your seat. You exhale dramatically when your butt hits the fabric of the stool. 

“Phew. I’m glad that’s over…” you say breathily. 

“Ya sure?” Eliza asks from across the table, “Ya looked like you were havin’ fun out there after a while.” 

“I was but it was scary…I must admit I wasn’t _entirely_ ready. But it looked so fun, so I had to just go for it. I didn’t spend a month in lessons to waste them.” you reply. 

“Ya know, if it helps, people were staring at Renee and I way more than they were staring at you two.” Eliza furthers, “But I don’t give a damn, honestly.” 

“It’s all about having fun.” Renee adds, “So as long as you had fun, it was worth going onto the dance floor.”

“I did.” you say. 

“And you did fine.” Severus says from beside you. Your shoulders relax. “I told you that you would, did I not?” 

“You did.” 

“Exactly.” he finishes. 

“I forgot how much fun it was to dance.” McGonagall says from beside you, sighing with a gentle smile. She’s out of breath, patting the sweat off her neck with a kerchief. 

You pick up the menu on the table in front of you. You glance through it, and then you declare, “Honey Ham!” And poof! A few perfect slices of ham appear on your plate. You cut a piece of meat and daintily begin to eat. Immediately, Eliza devours what’s on her plate, and it’s gone before anyone else has time to make even a small dent in theirs. She’s managed to do this without making a mess. She covers her mouth with her napkin to chew.

McGonagall is flabbergasted by this display, Snape rolls his eyes, and Dumbledore finds her speed-eating funny, because he chuckles. You’re not shocked because you’ve seen her eat like that before. 

“Lyze, did you eat today at all before this?” Renee asks. She shakes her head. 

Dumbledore uses his wand to bring her goblet over to him, and then pours mulled mead into it for her. “Here’s a drink to wash that down.” He says, “Honestly, if you weren’t alumni, I might just find myself giving points to Slytherin for that.” 

Severus half-chokes on his drink in shock. 

“Five figurative points to Slytherin~” you drawl. And then you all have a good chuckle over it as Eliza thanks Dumbledore and takes a sip of the drink. 

“Would you care for some mead, Kit?” he asks, “How about you, Miss Blanc?” 

“Oh, no thank you, sir.” Renee replies politely, “I don’t drink.” He makes eye contact with you next. 

You flush, “I have to politely decline, sir.” 

“Kit’s a lightweight.” Severus adds. 

“Severus!” you exclaim, “I am not!” He smirks smugly. 

Eliza and Renee snort with laughter. This comment and reaction also get chuckles from Minerva and Albus too. You reach over for the mead bottle and pour a quarter of a goblet. Then the two old Gryffindors start to reminisce about being young, telling you stories. Dumbledore tells you all stories about how when he was a young professor at the school, some people used to call him “Hunkydore.” This is very awkward to listen to and you had never seen Severus look more done with life than he did right now. McGonagall’s stories are a lot more refined than the “Students used to call me Hunkydore” stories. Once they’ve finished, the rest of you are given opportunities to tell a tale or two. But when it gets to Snape, he simply shakes his head and goes, “My stories are full of darkness and dismay. I’m not telling any of them.” 

-xXx-

Your conversations are cut with the loud cheer of students in the middle of the dance floor, as the Weird Sisters jump up on the stage and start to perform their rock music. 

“Oh, hell yeah.” Eliza says, “This group is bloody wicked.” Renee chuckles at the pun. When the loud guitar riffs and banging drums pierce the air, Snape looks even less amused. 

You stay for one or two songs, before you all collectively decide that it’s too loud. 

“I brought a camera.” Renee says, “How about we go and take some pictures?” 

“Sure.” Eliza agrees. 

“Absolutely.” You second, and then you turn to Severus, “Darling, will you pretty please take some pictures with me? They aren’t getting in the _Daily Prophet,_ just photo albums.” 

“I despise pictures,” he says. 

Your face falls. 

“…You get one and that’s it.” he finishes.

“Two…?” you press hopefully. 

“Fine.” 

“Yay!” And so, the four of you get up and slip out of the hall to a quieter place. On your way, Severus yells at some students to quit snogging, takes away house points, and sends them scurrying back to the dance completely humiliated.

-xXx-

You take some pictures on the staircase, and then outside in the snow, using the light charm to illuminate the place you stand. You enjoy yourself. You and your friends have a couple of laughs, and Severus insists on being your photographer, so he doesn’t have to be in more than the two pictures he promised you. 

After you’ve taken enough to be satisfied, you return to the Great Hall in time for the slow dance. Eagerly, you tug him back to the floor to dance with you. Slow dances are easy. You move gently. Despite the slow tempo, the room still vanishes around you, as all your attention focuses on your partner. You keep your expressions locked, gazing at him. The glint of the icicles reflects the catchlights in his pupils and enhances the glossiness of his dark, solemn eyes. The silvery lighting in the hall illuminates his pale face. His hands are placed to grip your sides and around your back, while yours are placed around his neck. You step and turn slowly, keeping to the tempo of the music.

Your right hand begins to slide from his shoulder. One hand slides up from your back to catch it. You press your head against his chest and sigh, closing your eyes. 

You can’t see his expression, but if you could, you’d see a wave of bittersweet melancholy crash over his face while contentment wraps you up like a gentle blanket. You don’t want this dance to end. 

But alas, all good things come to an end, and the music fades to quiet. Your dancing slowly comes to a stop and you pull away from one another. He bows, respectfully, and you take the long skirt-like train of your waistcoat and go in for a curtsy. 

“I’ll meet you right back at the table, Sev.” you say, and then, with a little skip, you turn your back to him and vanish into the crowd to run off and use the restroom. 

-xXx-

When you return, you take the time to look around the hall, which is considerably less crowded than it had been earlier. Some students have slipped off and others have gone to bed. McGonagall and Dumbledore are asleep at the staff table...somehow. Dumbledore's flushed face tells you he's drank a bit too much. 

The music has slightly mellowed out. You stop at the dessert buffet and the refreshments tables before sitting down to chat quietly with your two friends.

“You and Professor Snape looked great out there, by the way.” Eliza comments. Renee agrees. 

You smile, “Thanks~” you reply. “Speaking of Severus…Have you two seen him anywhere?” You ask them. 

“We saw him slip out for a break, and that Russian guy in the white followed ‘im.” Eliza replies, “I think they went out to the carriages.”

Something that can only be described as a bitter, possessive jealousy wells up inside you like a flame. **_(Why he touchin’ my man? Where he goin’ with my man!?)_** “Oh, _hellllllll noooo_! That bloody brute said something really nasty to me, he isn’t allowed anywhere _near_ my spice! Excuse me while I go kick some Ruski babushki.” And you’re up and stalking out of the Great Hall before they can stop you.

-xXx-

As you're crossing towards where you need to be, you catch a couple snogging in the corner near one of the pillars. You fire a spark of pink from your wand, “Oy! Hello, decency! I’ll take away house points if you don’t scurry back to the hall where you’re supposed to be.” Flushed red, they listen.

As you make your way, you can hear voices. One of them belongs to your beloved. The other is Igor’s. And then you suddenly notice someone has beaten you there and is spying on them. Startled, you let out a breathy gasp, and go stiff. The other person does the same, before turning around to face you. It’s Harry Potter. His eyes go big. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” you whisper, “Just go back to the hall and we’ll pretend you weren’t here.” he nods briskly and takes his leave. There’s a short silence. You duck behind the pillar where you can see and hear them. It’s snowing hard outside, and you can feel the icy chill of the air on your cheeks, and snowflakes catch in the curls of your hair. 

“It’s a sign, Severus, you know it is!” Igor says sharply. 

_Sign? What’s a sign? A sign of what?_

Severus pushes past the other man, “Igor, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You watch as Professor Karkaroff rounds on your beloved. Your blood boils and you clench your fist around your wand. 

“Oh really?” Karkaroff replies, “Then perhaps you wouldn’t mind rolling up your sleeve?” He seizes Severus by the wrist, gripping tightly.

_How dare he put his grimy hands on him!_ You cast a pink spark from your wand. It shoots out like a firework and lands in the snow in front of them. It goes out with a hiss. 

. 

They go rigid. Severus wrenches his arm free. Both glares glint in the direction the spark came from. 

You reveal yourself, stepping out from behind the pillar and into the torchlight. You point your wand towards Karkaroff. “Keep. Your hands. Off him.” you drawl lowly, through gritted teeth. You glance at Severus. He rolls his eyes. 

Karkaroff glares icy daggers, and then he says, “Does your little Lolita know, _hmm?_ ” 

You bristle. Your grip tightens around your wand so harshly that your hand trembles. _That’s **IT!**_ And then you drop it, clench your fists, and charge towards Karkaroff. But you’re quickly intercepted when Severus steps in between you and holds you back. You meet the scratchy wool of his attire instead. 

“Let me at him!” you exclaim. 

“Oh no you don’t.” he holds you firm and glares daggers at Karkaroff, who has stepped back slightly. “I would advise you not to provoke Professor Oakley and to leave us. This discussion is over. Good. Night. Igor.” 

His icy daggers burn holes in your face, and he mutters something like, “Psychotic little…” before he turns and briskly stalks off. When he’s gone, you relax. You mutter, _“I hate him…”_ into the wool. 

“Yes, I know. Now come off it. He’s gone.” You pull away. 

“He makes me so angry! The way he tried to handle you like that! I can’t believe he put his hands on you!” 

“He grabbed my wrist. Even if you wouldn’t have stepped in, I could have twisted it free. I’m more concerned about the fact he called you that degrading name again.” 

“I-I don’t care about that! I’m used to being verbally abused, it doesn’t matter!” you reply, “He didn’t hurt your wrist, did he?” 

“You shouldn’t be…” he says icily, partially under his breath, “…But no. My wrist is not a fragile twig that can be easily snapped. You’re making a fuss over nothing, Kit. It’s not as if he tried to kill me.” 

“I’m _allowed_ to be concerned, Severus,” you say, “You’re my partner! I care about you!” He huffs.

“Stars…I’m. Fine.” he replies, “Honestly. You’re way more upset than I am.” Your shoulders were as tense as a tension rod. Your blood was still boiling. Your clothes felt hot and constricting. 

“Kit.” he cuts in, “I was promised something. And It’s getting late.”

_Oh._ You remember bashfully, _That’s right…oh the best, best, best way to relieve tension right now…shagging each other senseless…_

You smirk slyly, “Of course. But we need some dessert before that cherry on top.” You suggest, “And I need to say goodnight to my friends.” 

“Fine. But let’s make that quick. _I_ want to get to our bed.” 

“Believe me, darling, so do I~” 

-xXx-

**_AHEM._ **

**You go in first and he follows. The door clicks and locks behind. You take off your jacket and hang it up on the coat rack. Drawing in a breath, you turn to face him. He’s already begun unbuttoning his. You place your hands on his knuckles and push them down until they fall to his sides. Fingers fumble with the buttons as they slowly come undone. His hands remain stiff.**

**Once it’s open, you press your body weight into him, and go in for a long, steamy kiss, sliding the fabric off his shoulders. His hands find your waist, and he holds you for a moment, until you pull away, eyes fluttering. You unlace your waist cincher, pull apart the buttons in the back, and toss it aside. Before you can go for the buttons on your waistcoat, his slender, pale fingers find them, and he does instead.**

**Once it’s open, he slides it off your arms, and it pools to the floor at your feet. You go in for another passionate kiss. One hand is pressed against his shoulder, and the other on the collar of his white shirt. He tries to guide you towards the bed, but he’s stopped when his body is pressed back into the wall.**

**He stiffens slightly, taken by surprise. You pull away from him, and brush a strand of hair behind his ear, never once averting your gaze. He opens his mouth to speak, but your thumb presses against his thin lips, drawing an invisible line across the chapped surface and he says nothing.**

**“Please, darling.” you say, “Let me be on top. Tell me what you want me to do to you and I’ll do my best.” You gaze up at him with hope in pleading eyes.”**

**“You want to be…” he trails off, his words fade from the harsh scorn they almost took on. He averts his eyes, and his face dusts pink in the dim light. He breathes deeply.**

**“I-I mean I’d like to, but if you’re not comfortable with that then we don’t have to switch places. I’m fine either way, as long as we do it…”**

**There’s a pondering silence.**

**“Fine.” he says at last, looking back at you, “However…” he trails off again and averts his bashful gaze once more. His face flushes even redder.**

**You’re attentive, “Yes darling?”**

**“Be. _Gentle.”_ he orders. His swirling, solemn eyes whisper, _‘Please’._**

**“Of course, I will.” you say, going in for a third kiss. You let him off the door, and he turns his back to the room so he can be guided to the bed. When his legs touch the frame, he falls into a sitting position. He kicks off his shoes and socks. He swings his legs over to rest on top of the bedclothes and settles amongst the pillows. He starts to undo his shirt, before he glances up at you again, stopping.**

**“Undress me.” he says. You nod slowly and then climb up, sitting on your knees directly in front of him. You reach and take his hands, kissing the top of each knuckle, before undoing the cufflinks to loosen the sleeves. Then, you untuck his shirt and begin to fumble with the buttons, focusing intensely with trembling fingers.**

**… _Dear lord, why are there so many fucking buttons…?_ Amidst the shakinness, clammy hands grasp your wrists to steady them. You gaze up with eyes shining in gratitude. **

**“Slow down.” he says, “There’s no need to rush.” You nod and undo the next button without a tremor. He guides your fingers all the way down to the last.**

**Finally, they’re all undone. You pull the two halves apart, and his shirt lies open. His pale flesh already glints from dapples of sweat. His body is illuminated from the moonlight streaming in through the glass window panes.**

**“Close the window…” he says.**

**With a flick of your wand, the curtains come free from the ties and fall over it, leaving a small sliver of glass where the moonlight still sneaks in. With another few flicks, you light the torches, which cast a warm, seductive light in the room. You turn back to face him. His hair has vanished into the inky dark of the pillows, but his eyes are bright with the light of flames reflecting in them.**

**Your brush your fingertips slowly down his body, tracing a path towards his stomach, his gooseflesh rising on pallor skin. He arches his back slightly into the movement, a small tremor rippling across his skin. Your fingers slide back up towards his chin, this time with the gentle scrape of your nails. He lets out a breathy sigh, mixed with an airy gasp. You feel the familiar sexy sensation in your breeches.**

**His head tilts back towards the ceiling when your gentle fingers brush underneath his chin and away. You lean over him and slide the shirt from his shoulders. You press your fingertips lightly against his brow.**

**“Stay just like that.” you say, “Eyes on the ceiling…” You take off all the layers of clothing on your torso, embracing the feeling of gooseflesh and liberation.**

**You bend forward to touch the bare skin on your torsos together. His body trembles slightly with the touch. You meet his gaze.**

**“Are you alright?”**

**He nods curtly. “I’ll tell you if I’m not.” he says. You smile at him in the warm light. You move his hair out of the way so you can have better access to his skin. You pepper kisses down toward the crook of his neck. He hums and sighs when he feels the moist heat of your lips. When you reach the soft spot between his neck and shoulder, you quickly latch on with your teeth, biting the tender flesh. He gasps at the new strength of the grip.**

**“Ah! Kit!” he exclaims.**

**You immediately pull away, expression apologetic, “I’m so sorry! That was meant to be a gentle nip…”**

**“It’s fine…it just…took me by surprise is all. You can continue.” You nod and press a delicate kiss to the flesh, before fastening your mouth over the sweet spot again. Your lips and tongue begin to pull and prod at the skin. He arches into you, gracing your ears with his gentle, breathy sighs. You feel the heat and pressure between his legs increase. One of his hands firmly clutches your side. He arches further into the contact and then grips you tightly around your back. It’s your cue to put your teeth into it.**

**“Ahh…excellent…” he sighs. You pull away to examine the beginnings of the dark blemish. It shines in the orange-red light, moist from your lips. You kiss it, before pulling away to gaze at him. You smile softly, resting for a moment.**

**“Surely you aren’t planning to stop at just one…” he says.**

**“I was hoping you’d ask for more, love.” you tell him, “How many would you like?”**

**“As many as you want to give me.” he says. Your smile broadens and you slide down slightly, fastening your lips around his collar bone. You begin this one a little more aggressively, with a stronger grip, as the bone allows more girth for you to claim. At this touch, another shudder passes through him, and he lets out a gasp that decrescendos to a moan. At the sound, the heat between your hips increases excitedly.**

**You proceed to create a few more love marks, until you have a trail that wraps from his neck to his collar, and then meanders down to his left pectoral.**

**You finish your artwork with a bite that’s more teeth than tongue and lip. It elicits a moan from the depths of his throat. When you pull away, you discover you’ve broken the skin and drawn a couple of drops of blood.**

**“…Oh dear…” you say, slowly looking up at him, “Darling…” you flush, “I made you bleed a bit.”**

**“I know, I felt that.”**

**“I’m sorry, love.”**

**A naughty smirk passes across his face. “Want to make up for it? Lick it off.” he replies. Your initial concern goes away, and following a slightly awkward and crooked smile, you bend your head back down. You flick your tongue out to touch the skin. He chuckles breathily as you swipe the blood away, tasting the metallic flavor. You finish the mark with another kiss. Your hand slides into his trousers, finding the hot, firm swell beneath them.**

**Severus gasps and tilts his head further back towards the ceiling when he feels the touch. You spend a few seconds rubbing and prodding and touching. Gradually, his breathing begins to pick up and the tension continues to grow. You pull your hand out and grind your clothed hips teasingly against him, increasing the hot friction between you.**

**“Kit…wait, stop!” he begs breathily. You stop and look up.**

**“What’s wrong…darling?” you ask.**

**“…My trousers…” he draws in another breath, “…Get them off…” You unbutton them and whisk them off with a flourish, tossing them aside. They thump to the floor, and he lies gorgeously naked beneath you. In the dim, you drink him in: Sex flush covers a thin, sweat-dotted body in a rosy, virgin pink.**

**You pull away from him for a moment, and he lets out a tiny whimper in response. Pants and stockings join the pile on the floor as you free yourself from the binding threads. You mount your saddle. Your skin is clammy. You bend downward, arching your back into him. You brush the soft humidity of your lips together, before sharing your hot breath.**

**Ravenous mouths move hungrily against one another, and tongues dance more gracefully than feet ever could. Bodies grind in sweat against one another. Moans echo through searing kisses. Raking fingers scratch marks across your back, leaving a trail of sweat, and slide down to cup your rear. Your chests pulse rapidly when you break apart to gasp for air. You pull his wandering hands and press them into the pillows.**

**Heaving and pink-faced, he gazes at you through half lidded eyes with furrowed brows, his lips slightly parted and his hair fanned out around his head. His sweat-dappled chest rapidly moves up and down. You smile and go in for a gentle kiss, placing your swollen lips to his heartbeat. You slip your hands down and tug at his inner thighs, parting his long legs for easier access. You stroke his swell and lock your gazes.**

**“You tell me to scream as loud as I want when you’re on top,” you say, “So, naturally, you’re allowed to do the same. In fact, I want you to. Can you do that?” You wipe some sweat from his brow. He swallows and nods briskly.**

**“Yes…I will…whatever...just. Put. It. In…it’s cruel to make me wait…” he says impatiently. You pull away and take the lubricant from the nightstand.**

**“…Ask me nicely….” You reply, although you’re already coating your fingers in lube, “In the most beautiful...” Kiss. “Submissive…” Kiss. “Way…” Kiss. “You can.”**

**He studies you for a moment, and then you watch carefully as he furrows his brow, widens his dark eyes in a doe-like expression, and half-whimpers, in the softest, sweetest tone he can muster, “…Please, Kit…I beg you…just…shag me already…”**

**You bite your lip and smirk. You coat his stiff skin in lube, and then, you slip yourself over him.You tangle your fingers in his hair to hold him down. You begin slow, deliberate thrusts. Even when you pick up, they remain at a mediocre pace, hips riding perfectly together.**

**“Ohhhhh…mmmm...ahhhhh…yes…” he gasps, “…Stars…” Instead of moaning loudly like you normally would, you’re sighing breathily, so that your sounds don’t cover up his cries which you desperately want to hear.**

**“…Louder…” you gasp the command, speeding up.**

**“Oooohhh....Oooohhh...Ahh…Mmm…Mmm…Nnnnn…yes…yes…ooohhh..” he groans.**

**“…Come on, darling. Call out for me.”**

**His guttural cries progressively get louder, before the brassy, baritone symphony of his “OHHHHH!(s)” and “YES!(‘s)” fills the room and echoes in your ears. Pleasurable laughter mixes in with your gasps as you move faster, and the strength of the colliding increases. Your walls feel like they’re going to burst open. And then...**

**He moans.**

**...They do. A series of contractions ripple through your body. You cry out in breathy ecstasy as you continue with smaller, gentler thrusts through your orgasm. Meanwhile, Severus continues to gasp and groan beneath you.**

**“Nnn…nnn…ahh…haaa…Kit, I’m…I’m…” you look back down. He’s gritting his teeth, and his brows are furrowed. He looks like he's in pain. His fingers are curled so tightly in the bedclothes his knuckles are pasty white.**

**You continue thrusting, slowly, and deliberately. “Keep…calling out…you’re almost…there…”**

**“Ahhh…AHHH! YES! YES…OHHHHH—” he’s cut off as he goes rigid, and a series of contractions ripple through his body. His love pours into you like a river. You slow down your thrusting to a stop, and his cries gradually decrescendo back to breathy gasps. “… _Nnnahhh_ …” **

* * *

He exhales, and collapses onto the bedclothes and pillows, with his chest heaving, and his eyes partially closed. You pull yourself off his clammy frame, and sit beside him, gazing down to take him in again. His sweaty body glints beautifully in the dim. Moisture dots his forehead and glistens on his red-flushed cheek and skin. Shorter strands of his black hair are damp, plastered to his face and the corners of his eyes. 

The air reeks of sweat and sex, and the room feels stuffy, but you’re so satisfied you don’t pay it much mind. 

You reach down and brush the damp locks behind his ear, “Thank you.” you murmur, “For letting me be on top...”

“Being under you wasn’t that bad.” he replies. 

You blush slightly. That was his way of saying he enjoyed it. “Would you be willing to bottom again?” you ask, almost shyly. You study him, trying to read his eyes.

A short silence envelopes the room. His expression is contemplative. 

“I would.” he replies. Your chest swells with happiness for a moment, but still, you find yourself staring and waiting for the _“However...”._

He opens his mouth to speak. 

_And...here it comes._

“What?” he asks simply. 

_‘What?’ What!? No “However…” just…”What”?_

“For once, I’m not being sarcastic, if that’s what you think.” he says dryly, “I mean it when I say I would not mind bottoming again.” 

“You…” A giant grin spreads across your face. You go in for one, two noisy kisses. After sitting up again, your fatigued body rests against the pillows beside him. He moves towards you. His arms wrap around your hips, and he puts his head in your lap with a sigh. His dark locks tickle your naked skin. You stroke his damp hair and massage his clammy shoulders. 

“…Before I met you…I’d never been with anyone like this...” he says casually, content fatigue in his voice. 

“…W-wait- hang on! Severus! Wh-what? You’re a virgin!?” 

He gives you the look. 

_Shit. I misspoke. That means..._

_“Oh, yes, obviously._ Because it isn’t as if we’ve been _shagging_ for the past _seven_ months.” he scoffs. 

“You know that isn’t what I meant, Severus! I meant before our first time together. You were…?”

He rolls his eyes, “Yes. And?”

You continue, “A-and you never thought to tell me!? You just gave me your purity...” 

“Why should it matter, Kit?” he asks. 

“Well…it’s just that losing your virginity is such a huge thing and…” 

“I know that.” 

“A-And a lot of people regret their first time…” you continue, “They realize that that person wasn’t worth it…you know I do…” 

“Well, I would too if I had to see Gilderoy Lockhart naked.” 

_Thanks for that, prat._ [Kit was abused by Lockhart, you insensitive asshole! *grumbles*]

“The point is, I don’t regret mine.” He says. 

Whatever spark of irritation you had with him for the stupid Lockhart comment vanishes. Severus continues. 

“As far as I’m concerned, the person who took my virginity is very much worth it. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have chosen to consummate.” 

Your heart soars, but melancholy tugs sharply at the strings. And you sigh. “I just wish I could have given you mine…”

“You’ve given me plenty.” he says.

The clock strikes Midnight. You glance over to the window, you pick up your wand from the nightstand, and use it to pull back the drapes. The snow is still bright and raging outside. You glance down at the beautiful man in your lap. Then, you lower your wand and set it back in its box. The curtain whooshes closed.

“Happy Christmas, darling.” 

He studies you for a moment with his dark pools and then says, “Happy Christmas, Sunflower.” 

You smile softly. He moves up slightly and nuzzles your chest. You entwine your limbs. For a few quiet moments, you enjoy the calm serenity. Until you say: 

“…We should probably get cleaned up before we go to bed…I don’t want to go downstairs on Christmas morning smelling like sex.” 

“No, neither do I, but I’m too tired. We’ll deal with it tomorrow.” He kisses you goodnight and then falls asleep in your arms, his hums like purrs. 


	9. Grandpa's Letters

IX. Grandpa’s Letters 

On Christmas morning, you go downstairs to the staff common room. No one is there. The only thing that’s been left is your pile of gifts. No surprise though, the staff common room usually stays relatively empty. 

You sit on the floor and distribute the gifts between you two. The moment you start, you become aware of very familiar wrapping paper that makes you giddy with joy.

“What’s the significance of that one, exactly?”

“It’s from my Grandpa!” you exclaim. You hastily finish passing out the small stack of presents before you take the package and pluck the note off the top. And then you stop. 

“You don’t mind if I go first, do you? I’m sorry I didn’t ask.” you tell him. 

“I don’t much care. All the gifts will get opened eventually.”

“Right then.” you do a little readjusting that comes in the form of a bounce, and then you open the letter. 

* * *

“ _Kit,_

_How are you? I haven’t heard from you in a while. But I’m sure you’re quite busy, so don’t stress out too much about responding right away. How’s the teaching job at Hogwarts going? I hope well. In the meantime, I hope you like your gifts. Happy Christmas!_

_Keep in touch! Write to me soon._

_~Grandpa”_

* * *

You smile and hug the note to your chest. Your heart flutters. You loved hearing from your Grandpa. And you were very excited to respond to him. But then when you look back down and read the postscript, you feel the heavy weight of guilt like lead upon your shoulders:

_P.S.: I know you aren’t on great terms with your Father right now, but you need to write to your Mum._

You had only contacted her at the beginning of summer, with a short letter, telling her you weren’t coming home and didn’t know when you would be back. In your letter, you’d also said to give your love to your sisters, and the family dog. That was all you’d said. And in the postscript, you’d simply stated, “If you want to know why, ask Dad.” And that was that. You owed two letters now.

“You’re making that face you make when you’re upset, Kit.” Snape says gruffly. 

“Oh!” you jump from your mind back to reality, “M-My Grandpa, wonderful man, skilled wizard. H-he was the first person to tell me about my abilities…and he mentored me before I went to Hogwarts, he’s always been incredibly supportive of me in everything I do… You ought to meet him sometime…” your speech has steadily been picking up speed. 

“You’re rambling, Kit. Tell me what’s wrong.” he scoffs. 

“I have to write to my Mum, too…” you say, “That’s not the problem, really. It’s just that I feel guilty because I haven’t written to her since June so…I basically disowned my father, and in doing so disowned my entire household last year and…”

“Then you’d better write to her.” he replies, with a nip of bitterness.

“I’m nervous…” it slips out before you can stop it. He looks up at you with his piercing eyes. 

“At least you have a mother who cares about you. Mine never did.” he says sharply, “Not really, anyway.” 

“…I’m sorry I…I don’t know how to respond I…” you fiddle with your hands as you speak. 

“Then don’t. I was merely pointing it out.” 

“Right…” you trail off, before speaking again, “I can’t fix the past, but in the present there’s someone who loves you dearly, now. I’m right here.” 

He rolls his eyes, “You don’t need to tell me that. Honestly.” he says, “I already know. Now, how about opening that gift?”

“O-of course!” you rip open the wrapping paper and reveal a pile of records. You sort through them: Elvis, Bowie, Queen, Sinatra, The Beatles…, and lastly, an album of a wizard group you did not know. But what you do know is that each of the albums had been carefully picked by him for you. You squeal happily, “I can’t wait to play these.” you say. 

“I can. Your taste is acquired.” Snape says smartly. 

You roll your eyes and chuckle, and then lift the small package from his pile, “Here. Could you start with this one?” 

“I suppose.” He shakes the package and then tears it open to reveal a velvet box, He pops the lid and studies the present, “Bracelets?” he holds them up. Each one is a thin silver chain- one with a moon charm and the other with a sun charm. The moon one also has a charm of the Capricorn symbol, and the sun one has a charm with the Cancer symbol. 

“It’s a set. The moon one is for you, and the sun one is for me.” you declare, “Although…you don’t have to wear that if you don’t want. You could just keep it with you, like a good luck charm!” 

“I’ll wear it.” he says.

“You will?” your face lights up, “You will! Oh! That makes me so happy you have no idea.” 

He takes the bracelets from the box. He hands you the one with the sun and then rolls up his right sleeve. You undo the clasp in slightly shaky hands then put the chain on his wrist, clipping it into place. He does the same with yours. You smile and raise your wrist to the sunlight streaming in. The rays catch on the silver, glinting brightly off it.

“Your turn, yes?” 

You nod, and then you both proceed with the rest of your gifts. You get some hair adornments, a couple of jumpers, and plenty more tea you don’t really need. 

From him, you receive a present that is quite wonderful. It’s a robe with a sunflower print that’s adorable.

“This is so cute!” 

“You seem to have a liking for printed robes.” He says. It was true, you had robes with print for every holiday, not just pumpkin ones. The only other printed robes you had that weren’t holiday-themed was one that had stars printed on it and another with birds. 

“I love it.” you tell him. You take the robe out of the box to admire it, and when you do, something metallic falls out and clatters to the floor. You pick it up. It’s a key to his house on an adjustable chain. 

“I finally had another one made.” he says, “The house is ours now. Not just mine anymore.” 

You clutch the key in your clammy palm and press it to your chest. You beam. “Thank you, so much.” 

And then, you hand him the rest of the gifts you have. There are three more parcels for him. The first one has two button-up shirts: one gray, one green. The second one has two leather-bound books, one of which is beginning to fall apart. He examines it and opens it, scrutinizing carefully. 

“This is the same diary I caught you levitating in the halls your first year here.” He says when at long last he recognizes it. 

You nod, “It’s a collection of poems and letters that I wrote when I was in seventh year. There are some drawings, too. I had a massive fancying of you, even then, so there’s quite a few…love poems in there. They’re full of ridiculous clichés and things…quite conventional, mind you, but I thought that perhaps it might be something we can have a good laugh about. That and…there’s still quite a few empty pages. You can fill them, i-if you’d like.” You flush, “Just, don’t judge me too harshly.” 

“I can’t promise that.” Severus replies. 

You sigh, “Of course…” He looks back down into the box.

“I see there’s another diary in here.” He takes it out. It’s smaller. Small enough to fit in the pocket of someone’s robe. 

You nod, “That one is recent. I have a lot of spare time during office hours, because I finish grading early, and students don’t really come to visit me all that often. So…I write. That diary is special because it’s the one about us…and our relationship. And you…” 

He hums. “I’ll look through it. I’m curious.” 

You feel warm. 

Your last present to him is a beautiful, leather-bound copy of _“The Hobbit.”_

“That was my favorite book growing up.” You say, “The series that follows it, _the Lord of the Rings_ , were the only fantasy books, alongside the _Chronicles of Narnia,_ that I was allowed to read.” 

“Interesting you say that.” he tells you. 

“Why?” 

“Because the _Lord of the Rings_ is one of the most popular legends in the wizarding world. At least it was at one point, anyway.” 

You feel like you could burst with excitement. “Y-you mean the whole time I was reading about characters who _might_ have been real? A-and I was engaging in Wizard pop culture and I didn’t know?”

“More or less.” 

“That’s wonderful!” Because now you feel like you weren’t near as isolated as you thought you were. 

“My copy of this book is long gone,” Severus tells you, holding up _The Hobbit._ “It’ll be nice to put this back in my collection.” 

“Good, I’m glad of it.” you trail off, “Umm…if you don’t mind my asking…what happened to your old one?” 

His gaze hardens for a moment, “It’s at the bottom of the Black Lake.” he says, “Thanks to the Marauders.” he finishes icily. 

_DAMMIT Sirius Black!_

“Oh…”

“I don’t much care.” he cuts in, “This one is nicer anyway.” 

“Right, of course…” you trail off. 

“Look, there’s a gift we missed.” Severus changes the subject. 

“There is? I swore I…” you crawl across the floor and take the small box from under the tree. It’s from an unnamed sender, and the tag says it’s for both of you. The note on the box also says, “Use these wisely. *Wink, wink, nudge, nudge*.” 

“What the hell is this?” Snape exclaims. You open a box of condoms and lube. You turn into a strawberry. And Severus is anything but amused. You rapidly smash the lid of the box closed. 

“Who even—wh-what!?” you’re spluttering in frustration. 

“Dumbledore…” Snape hisses icily. 

“A proper goofball, isn’t he?” you laugh guiltily. 

_“Completely…”_ Severus replies in a painfully sarcastic drawl. 

“H-how does he know!?” you cry out with a loud squeak, “That’s private!” 

“He has little to no restraint when it comes to reading minds. I’ve never known a Headmaster that loves gossip more than he does.” 

“Oh dear, oh dear…I never want to show my face in the Great Hall again…” 

“All you’ll get is that glinting-eye thing he does when he’s being mischievous.” Severus replies, “Nothing will come out of it.” 

“You’re oddly calm for this…” 

“I knew all along it would happen.” Severus replies, “Needless to say, I’m used to it.” 

“I wish he’d mind his business….” you say meekly. 

“He won’t.” Severus answers, “Although, regarding ours, he’ll probably forget about it. He doesn’t retain the information he deems unimportant.” 

“Thanks…” you say dryly. Your stomach growls. 

“Come on, let’s put these gifts away and get down to the Great Hall, I’m actually starving.” Severus changes the subject once more. 

-xXx-

When you get down there, you find the hall looks emptier, but it’s much louder for some reason, as it is full of over-excited high school students. Severus rolls his eyes beside you. 

“For the record, Christmas is never this crowded. But because of the Yule Ball, this year is an exception.” He says. 

“I figured.” 

You cross over to the table. Dumbledore greets you both with a smile under his beard and a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Good morning, Professors,” he greets, “Nice of you to join us.” 

You smile weakly. “Happy Christmas.” you say. 

“Go on. Please, sit.” Dumbledore invites. And you do. You glance to Minerva at your side. 

“Good morning. Happy Christmas.” She smiles and returns the greeting. She looks refreshed from sleep, and the tight knot she usually keeps at the top of her head has fallen to curly side ponytail of brown and grey. It makes her look less intense. 

-xXx-

That night, after a wonderful Christmas, you decide to respond to the letter you were sent. While Severus settles himself in bed, you change into pajamas and then sit down at the desk to write up some letters. 

* * *

_Dear Grandpa,_

_First of all, thank you for the Christmas presents! I can’t wait to listen to those records and wear those comfy jumpers! Hope you and Grandma are doing well._

_I know it’s been awhile hasn’t it! Life is keeping me quite busy! There’s so much I want to tell you. The main thing, of course, is that I have myself a new boyfriend now. We’re co-workers. We were friends for nearly three years before we started dating. He’s sarcastic, cynical. He treats me well but drives me mad. I love him so much it hurts…I want you to meet him! Aside from that, so much has happened since we last wrote to each other…_

* * *

You tangent off to give a brief summary of what’s happened recently. You finish by asking when you and Severus can visit. Then you sign it, _“Love, Kit”._ You seal the letter and set it next to you. Then, you take another piece of parchment and spend a few moments staring at it. You glance over your shoulder at the bed. Severus is trying to sleep. When he feels your gaze on him, he lazily opens a heavy eye. 

“Yes?” he asks sleepily. 

You shuffle in your seat, “I was just looking to see if you were asleep yet...” 

“Nearly, why?” 

“Oh, no reason…umm…I hope you had a good Christmas.” 

“It wasn’t as miserable as usual,” he says softly from the pillow. 

“That’s good.” you set your quill in the inkwell, and then you get up from the desk. You kneel by the bedside. You cup his face and lean in for a gentle kiss. “Goodnight Severus.” You murmur. And then you pull away and go back to the desk. You dip your quill in ink, and then begin to write. 

* * *

_Mum,_

_It’s been awhile, I know. I’m sorry I made you so worried. I just needed to be away. I’m living my own life, now, you see. I’m perfectly fine. The worst that’s happened was the scare at the World Cup, but we all got out just fine. I’ve been living at Spinner’s End. I’m with Professor Snape, now. And I have every intention to continue living with him or otherwise staying with friends or staying at Hogwarts. I’ll try to send you letters at least once a month, so you won’t worry as much. I love you, Mum._

_Sincerely, Kit._

* * *

And then you remember your friend Remus Lupin. So, you have one more letter to write than you thought. 

* * *

_Dear Remus,_

_Hi! How are you? Did you find a place to stay? Somewhere to work? I hope you did, truly. How’s Sirius?_

_I’ll tell you one thing for sure, things over here have been everything but quiet. There hasn’t been a quiet year at Hogwarts since I started teaching._

_First thing's first, Severus and I are together at last. Other than that..._

(You tangent off about various things)

_…I wish you nothing but the best._

_Take care, my friend,_

_~Sincerely, Kit_

_P.S.: Here's some records I thought you might like._

* * *

-xXx-

You then proceed to tie the notes to your mother and grandfather to the legs of the two owls you borrowed from the owlery and send them off into the night. Then, you glance at Jareth. He turns away and pouts.

“I have a special job for you, no need to give me the cold feather treatment.” You say. He puffs up his feathers. You roll your eyes, “I’ll be right back.” 

You walk across the flat to the door and go back to your room. It’s cold and dark when you get in there. You use _“lumos”_ , as you don’t see a point in lighting candles if you’re going to be in here for only a quick second. You trail your fingers through one of your record crates and pull out a jazz record and one of the Queen albums you don’t listen to as often as you’d like to, and carefully set them in a canvas tote bag you dig out of the back of your half-empty wardrobe. You carry them back to your room. When Jareth sees you, he does a pleased little hop from his perch to the desk. You roll up the letter and tie it to his leg. Then, you hand him the bag with the two records.

“I need you to find Remus, and be extremely careful with my records, got that?” He nuzzles your hand to prove he understands you. You smile softly and pet his head, “I know I can count on you, my love. Right then. Godspeed, and be careful.” And with that, he flaps his wings, creating a gust of air that rustles the parchment on your desk, before he takes off and flies out the window. You watch him fade to a speck, and then close the window. You sigh. You glance back at the bed again. Severus is sleeping with his body turned towards your side of the bed, his chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm, and his hair curled in delicate dark waves over his face. You put out the light and settle down beside him, turning your body to face him. You close your eyes and drift off into dreamless sleep. 

-xXx-

You wake up wrapped in his embrace. You spend the day undecorating the dorm and tidying up your offices. 

The next day following, the owl you sent for your Grandpa returns to you. 

“He got back to me!” you say excitedly, smiling up at Severus who’s sitting on the couch. 

“Well, what did he say?” You open the letter. 

* * *

_“Kit,_

_It’s good to hear from you. It sounds like you’ve had quite an eventful few months. I’m glad that you’re okay. As for paying us a visit, how about you come over to our house for New Years?_

_Looking forward to seeing you soon,_

_-Grandpa”_

_How wonderful!_

* * *

“What do you think, Severus?” you ask, after you’ve shown him the impromptu “invitation”. 

“I think you’re very fond of your Grandfather. I want to know why. How else will I know if we don’t go?” 

You smile softly, “Wonderful, so we’ll go then! My Grandpa is one of my favorite people in the world.” you lean into his shoulder for a moment, “Next to you and my friends, of course.” 

“I either tolerate people or I despise them.” he replies, “There are only two exceptions to that. I don’t need to tell you who they are, do I? Nor do I have to share what feeling they’re associated with, _right?_ ” He raises a brow. He’s either testing you...or looking for confirmation. 

You gaze up at him, “I already know, Severus.” _I have part of the only love left in his eclipsed heart._

“Thought so.” He says. So you respond promptly. 

“Want to take a walk to the owlery with me?” you ask Severus, “I sent Jareth out too, so I need to use someone else.” 

“There’s nothing much else to do.” He replies, shrugging. And thus, you make your way. You find an owl that hasn’t been out in a while and you send the eager girl out for delivery. 

“Righto~that’s done.” You step out onto the balcony of the tower and scan the sky. No sign of Jareth, or the grey owl you’d sent to deliver the letter or your mother. You sigh. 

“You’ve got to give it a few more days, you know.” Severus scoffs, joining you by your side. 

“I know…I just…I don’t really like to send Jareth out for longer deliveries because I worry too much about him since he’s gotten petrified.” you fold your arms over the railing. 

“You have no idea.” Severus tells you, “How do you think _I_ feel? You were petrified too.” 

“R-right…” you lean over the side of the railing, “I keep forgetting about that…no one wants to remember something so unpleasant…” 

“Obviously not.” He scoffs. You glance up at him and squeeze his hand. In the winter sun, your bracelet shines, and you can see his glinting as it peeks out from his sleeve. 

Suddenly, you hear a quiet conversation and staggering shuffles behind you. Both you and Snape turn to see who it is. It’s Neville and Ginny. They freeze and look up at you. Neville gulps and staggers backward. The letter he’s holding trembles in his hand. 

“Oh! Sorry. We didn’t mean to interrupt.” Ginny apologizes, “We just needed to deliver this thank you letter to Neville’s Grandma.” She explains honestly. The boy nods vigorously. [Subtext: We weren’t up to anything, Professor Snape, we swear!]

You smile warmly, Severus turns up his nose, “Oh, that’s alright! Go right ahead.” you say, “You’re allowed in the Owlery just as we are.” 

“Thanks Professor,” Neville says meekly, and then they whisk past you, avoiding Snape’s gaze. 

“Let’s head down now, yeah?” you look up at Severus for confirmation. He nods briskly and you head back into the tower to climb the stairs down. He casts them a warning glare as Ginny helps Neville tie the note to one of the owls. 


	10. Never Let me Go

X. Never Let me Go 

You wake up earlier than usual on New Year’s Eve. Your Grandpa didn’t live that far from school, so you were flying to the house. With your overnight bag in hand, you carry your broomsticks down to the main entrance of the castle and mount them, then, off you fly. 

You stop for a picnic lunch, a rest break before you continue onward again. The trip is smooth. Smooth, that is, until the two of you decide to race across a patch of clear blue sky near a metropolis. And before you know it, there’s another wizard behind you, flashing red and blue lights from his wand. He’s wearing Wizarding World Skyway Patrol robes.

“Oh shit!” you exclaim, snapping your head about and gritting your teeth. 

“You know, instead of stopping we could always try to lose him,” Snape suggests. 

“Oh yes, that’s a brilliant idea, Severus. Get caught and we get incarcerated by the Department of Transportation and have to send a letter to my Grandpa saying, “Yeah, we got pulled over for speeding on our brooms, we tried to lose the officer, but we were caught and arrested. Can you come pay 500 galleons to bail us out, please?” You start to slow your broom down, and he follows suit, all huffy and flustered. 

The wizard, a tiny little old man with ratty hair flits excitedly around you, before coming to a stop directly in front of you. He’s older than Dumbledore, you’d guess. 

He clicks his tongue, “ _Tsk, tsk, tsk_. Oh dear, what do we have here? You young’un’s and playful puppy love, yeah? I saw ye racin’ each other. Ya know, yer goin’ approximately 37.8 kilometers over the speed limit.'' he speaks so fast you can barely understand him. (For my fellow American readers that’s about 24 miles over). He takes his parchment and quill out and starts to write up speeding tickets. 

“…With all due respect, sir.” Snape’s purr cuts in, “The only reason we’re speeding is because we’re in a hurry you, see. My partner’s Grandfather is rather ill, probably dying, might already be dead. He was poisoned by a rare newt that’s twice as toxic as the usual kind, so we were hurrying to get the antidote to him. As a very skilled potions maker, I’ve spent countless hours working on this rather complicated elixir to save him.”

You nod vigorously. You start to think of Jareth’s untimely death. You picture his petrified state. And you start to feel the stinging behind your eyes. You fake sniffle and pull out a kerchief, dabbing your eyes with it. “Please, kind sir…I would never speed if I didn’t have a good reason. I’m usually such a safe flyer, you see…” 

Apparently, the old wizard seems rather touched by this story. He takes the bait, and he says, “Right. You both seem like a wonderfully nice couple a’ young’uns, so I’ll let ya off with a warning this time. Just don’t let us catch ya speeding again. I do hope yer able ta help your Grandfather. Fly safe, kids.” And he crumples the speeding tickets in his hands, bursting them into flame. He drops the ashy fragments from the sky. He turns and sets off, flying 20 kilometers under the speed limit, putting along like the old geezer he is, humming jovially as he disappears into the clouds. 

And when he’s out of ear-shot you draw in a breath, and then exclaim , “HOLY MERLIN’S BEARD I LIED TO A WWSPO! What have I…oh god, I was taught better than this…how could I do something so immoral…this is bloody terrible…oh something like this will surely come back to bite me in the arse…” 

But Snape seems very pleased, “Honestly, I never thought you had it in you just to go along with a lie like that, considering how much of a goody-goody you are. I’m impressed.”

_What!? A compliment! I don’t want to be complimented for lying! I’m a terrible person! Oh dear, oh dear…if Grandpa ever finds out I lied to a WWSPO…_

“I wouldn’t beat yourself up about it. While you were busy panicking, I casted a memory charm on him. He won’t even remember he ran into us today. You’re welcome.” 

You don’t know whether to be impressed or flabbergasted. You decide on a happy medium between the two. 

“Come on. We have an antidote for newt poisoning to give your Grandfather, do we not?” he asks, face tugging into a smug smirk. And then, he takes off before you can answer him. You trail behind him thinking you’ve been around too many bad influences. 

-xXx-

It’s early evening by the time you get to Grandpa’s house. It’s a quaint little Victorian, slightly strange looking, with peeling paint on the outskirts of town. There’s a trimmed-up garden in the yard, with cobblestones leading up to the front door. You dismount your brooms, holding them by your sides, and you ring the doorbell. There’s commotion on the other side. 

The door opens, and before you can make out who it is at the door, two small children fly out to greet you. 

“KITTY!” they shriek. They all throw themselves onto you at once. You immediately recognize your niece and nephew. The smallest of them jumps into your arms, and you’re shocked by the weight. 

“Hello! Hello! Hello! My goodness how big you’ve gotten!” you exclaim, looking at each of them in return.

“We miss you!” says one. 

“It’s been forever, ever!” says another. 

“Oy! Back in here, ya little buggers! Don’t bombard Kit, give space!” a familiar voice calls sharply. 

“But Mummy!” groans one. 

“Back inside. Right now, or you’re going to bed at seven.” Immediately, with a string of protests, they scurry back into the quaint house. You look up at the door and smile softly. 

The young woman at the door is tall and beautiful. She’s holding a baby on her hip and has one hand placed over a pregnant belly. 

“You’re late.” She scolds. 

“Niki.” you say. You go in for a hug. When you pull away, you coo at the baby, before you hear another voice. 

“Oi, dumb arse~” says a familiar voice from inside, “Where’s that tall, dark, and handsome boyfriend of yours, hmm!?” 

“Come in.” Niki says, side stepping so that you and Severus can step up to entryway and close the door behind you. A tastefully curvy girl steps into view. 

“There you are.” she says. 

“Rose!” you embrace her tightly. 

“How are you, Kit?” Niki asks, “It’s been a millennium and a half since I’ve seen you.” 

“I’m just fine!” you briefly touch the firmness of her stomach in front of you, “Four, huh?” 

“Yep!” She declares proudly, “And after that, no more. They’re little terrors, the lot of ‘em.” She ruffles her daughter’s hair beside her. The girl protests. 

You chuckle, “And Rose, how’s design school going?” you ask. 

“Oh, it’s so much fun!” she replies, “I couldn’t be prouder with my decision, you know.” 

“That’s good! I’m glad to hear you’re enjoying your major.” you say. 

“I’m also enjoying not living at home.” 

You perk up. “Oh?” 

“Yeah. Devin and I took her in. I didn’t want her staying in that house alone.” Niki says dryly. 

“After you decided to leave, Mum and Dad became unbearable. And, seeing both you and Niki’s courage to move out, I followed.” Rose says. 

You clear your throat, “O-of course. It’s for the best.”

“Damn right it is.” Niki says, “And hey, listen. I’m really sorry, alright? For saying all those horrible things I said about your powers when we were younger. I found out recently that Devin is a wizard, and Eloise here is showing signs of magic too.” 

“Well, that’s…that’s wonderful!” you exclaim. Niki goes quiet before she nods slowly and says softly. 

“It is.” 

There’s a short quiet, “Oh!” you turn to glance at Severus beside you, lightly tugging on his arm. “Come say hello, darling. These are my sisters—the short one’s Rose,” 

[“Oi! You’re one to talk!”] 

“…And the pregnant one is Niki.” 

“And these are my nieces, Eloise,” you indicate the girl, and then the toddler, “And Olivia. And my nephew, Eely.” 

“Hi!” Rose exclaims. 

“Nice to meet you, Severus, was it?” Niki confirms. He nods curtly.

“Say hello, you three.” She tells her children. But they suddenly turn shy and duck behind her legs. Except the toddler, who coos and grins broadly. 

“She’s saying hello.” Niki explains, “She hasn’t learned to talk yet.” 

Snape has no idea how to respond to her, so he tries his best to smile, although it seems to pain him to do so. 

This gets a chuckle out of everyone. Then, baby Olivia squeals again and begins to squirm, reaching forward. 

“She wants you to hold her!” you exclaim, delighted, looking at Snape. 

“I’ve never held a child in my life…” he replies, “I’m afraid I’d drop her if I tried to.” 

“Wouldn’t recommend that, either.” Niki says, “She doesn’t know how to hold still.”

You reach forward and take her instead. She’s satisfied enough by this it seems, especially when she starts to play with the adornments in your hair. 

Niki then gives Severus a skeptical look, “You’re taking good care of my sibling, aren’t you? You’re good to them, yeah?” 

“Obviously.” 

“Good. I was just confirming. After this I’ll have carried four children, as proof of my strength. I could kick your arse. So, if you ever hurt them, I’ll hurt you.”

“And I’ll help!” Rosemond declares. 

“Okay! We get it. We get it!” you say, “Please stop scaring my boyfriend.” 

“Just looking out for you, Kit.” Rose defends.

Niki pokes his chest, “Seems like you’ve got yourself a decent man, anyway~”

“Oi!” you exclaim, “Ahem.” you clear your throat, “Excuse my sisters, Severus. Rose has always had a lot of spunk, and the hormones are making Niki far too feisty. 

“Pfft.” 

“Whatever~” 

“It seems like feistiness is a family trait.” he comments, “I’m used to it at this point.” 

“Hullo Kit!” calls a warm voice from the hallway. You all stop and turn abruptly. And there stands an elderly wizard. He’s got a neatly trimmed beard that’s slowly turning whiter. His shoulder-length silvery hair is pulled back in a ponytail at the nape of his neck. He’s average height, mostly fit, but with a slight bit of belly to him. He’s got on some old robes of a bluish-gray color, cuffed all the way up to his elbows. His face is warm, and his eyes have a youthful glint about them. 

“Grandpa! It’s wonderful to see you!” you exclaim, face lighting up. You hand Niki back her child and then move briskly across the room and go in for a hug. He chuckles and squeezes you tight. 

“And you must be Severus,” he says warmly. Snape nods curtly.

Your Grandpa offers a hand for him to shake, “I’m Raymond, Kit’s grandfather. I’ve heard about you, and I’m pleased to finally meet you.” 

“Likewise.” Snape says dryly, trying his utmost to be respectful. At that point you feel a prodding upon your leg, and with a smile, you bend down to scratch the silvery Yorkshire terrier between his oversized, pointy ears. 

Just then, the door to the garage squeaks open and your Grandma appears in the hall, breath smelling of cigarettes. 

“Kit!” she exclaims, “Good to see you.” She’s a squib with curly gray hair and bangs, and glasses like the ones you wear for reading and writing. Her body shape is rounded, only a tiny bit taller than you, and she’s wearing a t-shirt and capris like usual. You go in for a tight hug, and then pull away. You introduce your boyfriend. 

He offers a hand for her to shake, “Hello.” He says. 

“Hello. I’m Yuna, Kit’s grandmother. Good to finally meet you.” Severus nods curtly. Once the formalities are through, she says, “All of the drinks are over at the bar counter there. And now that everyone is here, Grandpa is going to go get the pizza.” She glances over at her husband, “Right Raymond?” 

“Whatever you say, dear.” he replies, “Would anyone like to come along? Kit, you usually volunteer.” 

“Sure~ Severus and I can go, right, Sev?” you ask, looking at him. 

“I suppose.” he replies. 

“Wonderful! Off we go, then~” you say. 

“We’ll stay behind and help Grandma set the table.” Niki says.

“Alright then. We’ll be back in a bit.” 

“Actually, hold on Kit.” Grandma calls. You turn to acknowledge her. 

“Yeah?” 

“Can you put your brooms and bag in the room before you go?” 

“Of course~” You pick up the bag, and Severus picks up the brooms. You lead him up the winding staircase to the room where you will be sleeping. You set the overnight bag on the bed, and Severus leans both brooms against the dresser. When you come back, Grandpa is waiting by the door. Once you’re all set, you follow him down the cobbled path to the silver land rover parked out there. 

“You two can sit in the back together.” Grandpa says. You open the back door and pull down the seat, which has been pulled up. Then, you climb inside. Severus follows behind you, slamming the door closed. Grandpa climbs in the front seat. “Buckle your seat belts.” He says. Once you do, he does the same, and then puts the key in the ignition. The engine roars to life. He turns on the headlights. He sits for a couple moments to let the car warm up, before he puts it in reverse and backs up out of the driveway. 

-xXx-

While you’re driving, Grandpa probes recent events out of you, which you eagerly share anecdotes about. Eventually, he says, “I really hope you don’t mind that we invited your sisters over. We should have asked you first. I’m sorry.”

“No, that’s alright. It’s wonderful to see them, honestly.” you say, “No harm done.” 

“You know.” Grandpa says, “I’m happy for you. Both of you. And I’m so proud of who my grandchild has become. You’re doing great things. And, I’ve no doubt in my mind that you’ll continue to do so. I want you to know that.” 

You smile, face warm with blush and beaming. “Thanks.” 

-xXx-

You have a lovely evening and a lively dinner. Severus stays mostly quiet, except when people address him directly, quiet scorn hiding behind those deep eyes. 

After dinner, you have dessert of ice cream and the brownies Grandma made from scratch. 

“Now that we’re finished here,” Grandpa says, “We’re going to take a trip to the town square to watch the clock strike midnight.” 

Around eleven, you all bundle up in layers and take the short walk to the square. The children, who had previously been way more excited, have mellowed out considerably. Grandma and Grandpa lead the way, walking hand in hand. Niki’s husband has joined you all, and he keeps an even pace with his wife, carrying his son in his arms. Their oldest daughter walks between them, holding both her mother and father’s hands, occasionally jumping up to swing a couple inches of the ground. Rosemond skips in front of you, and you and Severus bring up the rear. 

Once you’ve arrived in the square, you discover that it's already crowded with the small population of residents from the provincial town. The streets have been closed off, and a fresh layer of snow litters the ground. All eyes turn to focus on the secondhand of the clock tower in front of you all. The young Mayor gives a quick speech. You strain your gaze to see. 

Rosemond makes fun of you for being short, to which you respond by sticking your tongue out. 

“Do you need a boost, Kit?” Snape teases. You blush.

“I’m fine.” you reply. Then, you turn back to face the direction of the clock. Luckily, it’s up high, so you can see it even with your vertically challenged frame. Your sisters converse and giggle quietly, and you chat with your grandparents about old music and silly antics. 

At long last, the countdown begins. The chorus of voices countdown. 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1…HAPPY NEW YEAR! 

An explosion of cheers fills the snowy sky and an explosion of fireworks lights up the night. Severus grabs you and pulls you in. You’re kissed fervently outside in the snow, with the clock chime ringing in your ears like you’re in some romantic fairytale. It is the only time he’s ever kissed you around other people. You're filled with such joy that you completely miss the fact that Rosemond has snapped a picture of you and Snape with her polaroid camera. 

You pull away from him. A wide grin spreads from ear to ear on your flushed face, and he smiles softly at you. 

“Alright, let’s go home everyone.” Grandma declares, and then she turns, and everyone follows her back into the thinning crowd. Rose brings up the rear this time. She taps your arm and slips something into your hand. You glance at Snape to make sure he’s not paying attention to you. You look at the polaroid image. It’s from Grandpa’s wizard camera, and the moving image shows you going in for a fairytale kiss, with falling snow and warm firework light around you. You press it to your chest, and then slip it into your pocket. You mouth “Thank you…” and she nods proudly. 

Once you’ve all gotten home, your Grandma goes to bed. Devin and Niki put their children in one of the three spare rooms. When they return everyone does a toast to the new year. Rosemond crashes on the couch, and you and Severus, and Niki and Devin split off to separate rooms. 

"This room brings back so many memories." You say. You're currently sitting up, underneath the pile of blankets. Grandpa would always pile up the blankets when he'd tuck you in, back when you were a child.

Although the room had been organized and tidied, you knew that the closet was full of magic supplies and old, dusty Hogwarts textbooks. The wand box rested neatly upon the dresser, next to a framed painting of a galaxy, an ornament of a unicorn, his framed Hogwarts letter, and a collage of moving pictures of you, your cousins, and his children.

"This is the room where Grandpa first told me that I was a wizard." you say. 

* * *

_“Wow!” you exclaim, “This is incredible. I’ve never seen so many magic things in one place before.” He opens a long, slim, box, and pulls a dusty wand out of it. He wipes the dust on the hem of his shirt. With a flick and a wave, he makes a few tiny, glowing birds appear. They fly around your head and tickle your face, before disappearing._

_“Your magic abilities aren’t as freakish and abnormal as people are making you think, Kit. Both of my parents were wizards, I’m a wizard, your mum’s a wizard, and so are you. There’s a whole world of us out there. And it’s only a matter of time before you get your letter.” He smiles softly._

_“My letter?” you ask._

_“To the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It’s a boarding school where you’ll learn how to control and improve your magic abilities. And you’ll meet lifelong friends. My parents went there. I went there. Your mum went there. Your uncle went there…and soon, you’ll go there.”_

_You feel warm inside. Butterflies dance in your stomach. Your chest swells with happiness for the first time in forever...._

**_It’s a curse! The Devil’s work!_ ** _Your father’s voice rages in your head. And then your short-lived happiness is gone._

_“If I’m a wizard, then that means I really am cursed…I’m not even allowed to talk about magic at home…there’s no way I’d ever be allowed to go to school to practice it. It would be…a…a blasphe-blasphem…a sin…”_

_“It’s not a curse or a sin, Kit.” Grandpa says softly, “It’s a gift. My mother told me it’s a God-given gift. He gives special people special powers so they can use them to do good in the world. That’s why we go to become wizards, Kit. And you will go, I promise. I’ll make sure of it.”_

_You blink away the stinging behind your eyes and you smile, and then you go into his large arms for a big bear hug._

* * *

"...I was so happy that night. Because beforehand I thought that I was a freak. A-and I had been repeatedly told by my father that my abilities were blasphemy, a curse, and a burden. Of course, he was wrong. As soon as I found out there were others like me...I realized that wasn't the truth anymore." you trail off and sigh, lying down on your back, and looking up at the enchanted ceiling showing glinting stars, and a multi-colored sky, surrounded by the planets of your solar system, moving clockwise around a sun tinted with relaxing red light. You raise your wand and cast a spell from it. It touches the sky. A UFO appears. The saucer circles the planets, before it disappears to Mars. Another bright light shoots up to the ceiling. It collides with the middle of the image, and explodes like a silent firework, transforming the purple galaxy sky to a calming blue. 

You glance over at Severus beside you and smile at him in the dim light as he lowers his wand. 

"My Grandpa used this enchanted ceiling to teach me the names of all the planets and several constellations. We came up with a story to help me remember the order the planets go in. Would you like to hear it?”

“I suppose.” 

“Okay! So, here’s how it goes. Freddie Mercury and Venus Angelica went to Mother Earth and asked her "Is there life on Mars?"....She said, "I don't know. He's too angry to talk to, but I'll ask Jupiter. But Jupiter didn't know either. He was too focused on figuring out what it would be like to ride the rings of Saturn. Saturn wouldn't answer, because he was distracted, arguing with Uranus about who had better rings. The only other one who knew the answer was Neptune, but he was too blue to give his input. Pluto was self-conscious about how little she was, and he'd been struggling to make her feel better about herself…" 

Silence. Severus’s gaze in the dim is wandering and solemn. 

“Are you alright? Am I rambling too much again?” you ask, studying him. 

“Honestly. I’m jealous, if you must know. With a Grandfather like yours.” he says, “Mine couldn’t be bothered to get to know me. I was a disappointment. Because I was _half_. _muggle_.” His voice is laced with disdain. 

“Oh…I’m…” 

“I’ve said before I don’t need your pity.” he tells you gruffly, “That hasn’t changed.”

“And I’ll say it again, just as I’ve said before…now you have someone who loves you more than words could say.” you tell him. 

“I really wish you’d stop that. It’s such a cliché. I don’t need you to tell me something I already know. It’s a terrible decision, really. Loving me that is.” he says. 

“Oh please. If you’re going to be that way, then I’ll say that it’s the most wonderfully terrible thing I’ve ever done.” you reply, “Although I can’t help these feelings I have. Can you?” 

“Obviously not. If I could I wouldn’t be with you this way.” He states sarcastically. And then he hisses under his breath with pain, tightening his grip around his bandaged arm. 

“Severus?” your concerned expression studies him. 

“Nothing. Arm’s burning again.” he replies. He turns on his side with his back to you and unravels the bandage to investigate. In respecting his privacy, you continue to stare up at the enchanted ceiling. 

Eventually, you feel movement beside you as he shifts slightly. 

“Kit.” 

“Hmm?” you turn and lie on your side so you’re facing each other. 

“Have you heard that saying?”

“Which one?” 

“If you love them, let them go.” 

“Yeah. Why do you ask?” 

“Could you ever?” 

You frown, “What do you mean?”

He rolls his eyes, “Could you ever let me go? If you had to? If something should happen? If…there was no other alternative?” 

“Severus, why would you ask me something like that?” you question, brows furrowing in concern. 

“No reason. Just something to think about.” he replies, “You don’t have to answer now.”

“Good, because as far as I’m concerned, in the present time, as it currently stands, I’ll never let you go. Not ever. Once I love someone, I won’t ever stop loving them. They earn a place in my heart…forever.”

“Of course, you’d say that.” 

“You’re the same way, though…” 

Silence. Your stomach turns. You feel the heavy weight of sorrow as blue as the galaxy sky above you. 

“And I hate it.” he says, “It destroys you, that sort of thing.” 

“It can.” you reply, “And maybe someday it will. But if that day comes, I guess I’ll just have to be strong…and brave.” 

“Can you give me your word?” he asks, “Can you promise me you won’t let love destroy you?” 

“I…I don’t want to make a promise that I’m not sure I can keep.” You say. 

“I should have known it was too much to ask.” he replies. He turns his back to you. 

“I…I don’t want to risk a promise that I could break, but I promise I’ll try. I promise I’ll try to be brave, and I’ll try to be strong.” 

There’s a short pause in silence. You hear snoring across the hall. 

“Either you will, or you won’t.” he replies, “Like I said, you don’t need to give me an answer now. Just. Something to think about.” 

He rolls back over, and you feel his arms wrap around you. “For now, however. I won’t let go.” You wriggle closer, sighing in his warm embrace.

_I wish you could say you’ll never let me go…never let me go…_

-xXx-

The next morning, Grandpa makes everyone breakfast, before you all say your goodbyes and go your separate ways. 

“I hope we see you at Hogwarts in a few years, Eloise.” you tell your niece. 

“Thanks!” she says, “I hope I see you too!” 

“Come visit us again soon, Kit.” says Grandma. 

You smile, “I know, I will.” 

“Just send a letter anytime you want to visit.” Grandpa reminds you. 

“Of course.” 

“Take care, Kit.” Niki says, “We love you.” 

“Be safe out there!” Rose finishes.

And that’s that. 

On your flight back to the castle, your grin is almost glued on your face. 

“I never thought your sisters were so amusing,” Severus says, “For muggles anyway. I thought they’d be more like your father.” 

You stiffen and give him a look. 

“What?” 

You shake your head, “No. They’re nothing like him. They used to get behind him until they formed their own views. And I’m glad of it.” 

Your late return to the castle makes you miss dinner. You visit the kitchen for leftovers, before returning to your room and to normalcy. 

A couple days before the term starts up again, you’re working diligently in your office to get some last minute things taken care of. That’s when Jareth finally returns to you. He knocks on your window. You half jump up from where you’re grading scene performances, before you turn to see him. You rush over to your window and let him inside. 

“There you are!” you exclaim. You smother him with hugs and kisses like you haven’t seen him in years. While normally he’d snap and scream in protest, he relents. Lying in your arms, you can tell he’s very tired.

“Aww. You’ve been flying since last night to get this to me, I bet.” you say, taking the letter from his leg, “Poor dear. You’re exhausted.” You put the letter on your desk. You offer an arm. Jareth climbs onto it. You curl your arm into your chest and gently press Jareth’s back and head into your shoulder so he can snuggle up with you. 

“Let’s get you to your bed so you can rest.” you tell him. Then, you saunter through the halls up to your room so you can put him to bed. He immediately hops from your arm to his cage, disappearing into his nest box. He turns a couple of times before he plops down and goes to sleep. You give him fresh water, and then close the door of his cage, before you return to your office. You lean back in your chair and open the note from Remus. 

* * *

_“Dear Kit,_

_Thank you for writing to me and sending those records, I’m enjoying them. It means a lot to know you still care, despite everything. I’m doing fine, although the job hunt hasn’t let up. My friend, Tonks, was nice enough to let me stay with her, as long as I earn my keep while I try to find another job. She doesn’t charge me rent but she works a lot, so I’m responsible for managing the house while she’s out. I’ve also been learning how to cook for her too, and I have to do the grocery shopping every week. It’s the least I can do._

_In other news, I haven’t had another transformation mishap. I finally got a proper prescription, thank stars for that._

_As for Sirius, well, I haven’t heard from him. I just hope he’s alright…_

_But also, my stars, it sounds like you’ve already had one hell of a year, haven’t you? Congratulations to you and Severus. I suppose I’m happy for you? I mean you seem happy about it. But damn, the drama with the Triwizard Tournament is all over the news. I’m honestly in disbelief. We’ll have to see how everything unfolds with it. I really hope that Harry is going to be alright…_

_Take care, Kit. Out of respect, I want to say give Severus my regards, but I don’t think he’d appreciate them…_

_-Sincerely yours,_

_R.J. Lupin_

_P.S.: Just a safety precaution, while I do appreciate you writing to me, I’d strongly advise you against sending letters. Owls keep getting intercepted. Be careful out there!”_

* * *

While you can appreciate the warning and the advice, now you’re slightly worried. You don’t think there’ll be a problem, but one can never know for sure. You decide then to cut back on the letters even though you don’t really want to. But safety first. 

You reread the letter once more, smile, and then neatly fold it up. You finish tidying your office, and then slip it into the letter box you keep. Then, you get up and go back to your room. 

The next Tuesday is Severus's birthday. You go out to eat, have one drink apiece, and then engage in some beautiful birthday banging. You light-heartedly tease him about being an old man. He’s 35 this year. 

February 14th is Valentine’s Day. You get a dozen roses and a box of chocolates. You recall mentioning to him once that you’d never gotten something like that from anyone, and despite how conventional it was, it’d be very nice. Clearly, he was listening.

He gets some potion bottles to add to his personal collection. Each one has a preserved flower in it. A red rose for passion. A chrysanthemum for fidelity and optimism. A carnation for pride and beauty. A daisy for innocence. A gardenia to tell him “you are lovely”. A Lavender for admiration, solitude, and beauty. And…a lily of the valley for sweetness and purity of heart.

-xXx-

February 21st. The Second Task is three days away. Because of everything that’s happened, the Triwizard Tournament had found a place to linger bitterly in the back of your mind, so you hadn’t been thinking much of it. But here it was again. Your sickening sinking feeling returns.   
  
  
  
  
  



	11. The Howler

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: This chapter contains a scene of emotional abuse. I've given the passage markings below, so you can skip it if you'd like to. 
> 
> It starts after: "You slowly open the letter. It whisks out of your hand and begins to scream in your mother’s voice in a sudden, piercing cry that shakes the table." 
> 
> And ends with: "You tear open your office door, run inside, lock it, and spend the rest of the lunch hour crying."

XI. The Howler

You’re woken up with a start. With an icy gaze and a curled lip, Severus lurches from the pillow. Faintly, you hear banshee-like screams that make your skin crawl. Unsettling commotion echoes through the walls. He scrambles out of bed. 

“What the hell is going on!?” he hisses sharply. Grabbing your dressing gown, you hastily throw it over yourself and follow him out the door. You follow the horrid sound of banging and wailing. It gets louder and louder until it abruptly cuts off in a chilling, sharp silence. You fly down the stairs, passing Snape’s office. And with a jolt, you discover that torches have been lit, and the cupboards to his stores are ajar. 

“Someone has been in my office!” he hisses lowly, disdain laced in the sound. 

“PEEVES!” you recognize the wheezy voice of Filch, the caretaker. You rapidly continue down the hall, until you find the old man and his cat at the foot of one of the staircases. There’s a piece of parchment on the ground, and in his gnarled hands, the old squib holds the golden egg.

“Filch?” Snape asks lowly, “What’s going on?”

“It’s Peeves, Professor,” Filch whispers icily, “He threw this egg down the stairs.” 

Severus stares at him, “Peeves?” he glances down at the egg, “But Peeves couldn’t get into my office.” 

Filch’s brows furrow, “The egg was in your office, Professor?” 

“Of course not!” Snape snaps. You wince when he raises his voice, “I heard banging and wailing-“ 

“Yes, Professor, that was the egg—” 

“I was coming to investigate—” 

“Peeves threw it Professor—”

“And when I passed my office, I saw the torches were lit and a cupboard door was adjar! Someone has been searching it!” he finishes icily. 

“But Peeves couldn’t-“

“I KNOW he couldn’t, Filch!” Snape yells again, “I seal my office with a spell none but a wizard could break!” He snaps his gaze around, searching for whoever broke into his office. But there’s no one. 

“I want you to come help me search for the intruder, Filch.” His icy expression looks at you next, “You too, Kit.” 

“I—yes, Professor, but—” Filch responds, but looks longingly around, desperate to find the troublemaking poltergeist. “The thing is, Professor, the Headmaster will have to listen to me this time. Peeves has been stealing from a student, it might be my chance to get him thrown out of the castle once in for all—”

“Filch, I don’t give a damn about that wretched poltergeist, it’s my office that’s—” 

You feel a sudden cold in the corridors, and you hear a mischievous voice behind you. You feel like you’re being touched by ice. 

“Harsh.” you feel an icy breath in your ear. You jump a mile and let out a squeal which causes Snape and Filch to snap their gazes towards you. You whip around to see the goofy face of a ghost with curly hair in a jester’s uniform. 

“PEEVES!” you yelp. He clicks his tongue. 

“Alright ye blasted poltergeist!” Filch cuts in sharply, “You’ve been caught red-handed stealin’ from kids!”

Peeves studies the egg, “You mean that? I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’ve never even touched the bloody thing.” he says, and then he waves and his grin broadens. 

“Liar!” Filch hisses.

He looks at Snape, “I do hope you don’t talk to your pretty little love the same way you talk about me~” he teases, resting his semi-transparent chin on your curly head. Snape’s gaze hardens. “Although there’s more shagging than talking, methinks ha ha haa~” he laughs heartily. You flush a deep crimson. 

Your lover’s lip curls dangerously. “Why you little—”

“Goodnight~” Peeves replies, before vanishing into thin air. 

You all stare dumbly, you avoid their gazes. And then you hear the clunk of Moody’s leg as he appears in the corridors. 

“Pajama party is it?” 

“Professor Snape and I heard noises, Professor,” Filch begins, and then goes off to explain, still accusing Peeves, “…And then Professor Snape discovered that someone broke into his off—”

“Shut up!” Snape hisses. Filch immediately goes quiet. 

_What the h*ll!? I get that you’re upset about being woken up and about your stores but…_

“Hey! That was unnecessary!” you immediately exclaim. 

“Go back to bed, Kit.” he says. 

“No.” you answer sharply, crossing your arms. He grits his teeth.

“Did I hear that correctly, Snape?” Moody asks, “Someone broke into your office?” 

“It is unimportant.” he answers coldly, exasperated. 

“On the contrary,” growls Moody, “It is very important. Who’d want to break into your office?”

“A student, I daresay.” Snape replies, “It’s happened before. Potions ingredients have gone missing from my private store cupboard…students attempting illicit mixtures, no doubt.” 

“Reckon they were after potion ingredients, eh?” Moody echoes, “Not hiding anything else in your office, are you?” You see his face turn red with livid anger. You feel the familiar spark of it bubbling your chest. 

“You know I’m hiding nothing, Moody.” he says in a soft and menacing voice, “You’ve searched my office thoroughly yourself.” 

Moody’s twisted face twists into a smile, “Auror’s Privilege, Snape. Dumbledore told me to keep an eye—” 

“Dumbledore happens to trust me.” he replies through clench teeth, “I refuse to believe he gave you orders to search my office!” 

The spark of anger starts to grow. 

“’Course Dumbledore trusts ye. He’s a trusting man, ain’t ‘e? Believes in second chances. But me—I say there are spots that don’t come off, Snape. Spots that never come off, d’you know what I mean?” 

And in that moment, Severus winces sharply and seizes his left arm. The one that had been burning as of late. Through gritted teeth his face twists in pain. You dart your gaze between them all. This is the second time someone had brought this up. And you’re confused. What are they talking about…? 

Moody laughs. “Get back to bed Snape.” 

_That’s it._

“Stop it! You don’t have the authority to send him anywhere!” you growl, “We’ve got as much right to walk about the school after dark as you do, _sir.”_ You sneer. Moody laughs even harder. Your eyes narrow further. It’s everything you can do to not fight his ass right now. But he’s…missing a limb, and he’s an auror...and an old, grown man...so the logical and moral side of you is like, _Now that’s just bloody cruel, and also, that won’t end well, you know it._ Evidently, Severus can feel you tensing up, so he puts out a hand to stop you. 

“Well, little Mx Oakley, walk away then. And take him with you.” Moody says, “Oh, ye dropped something by the way.” 

All at once, you all turn to look at the Marauder’s map on the floor. Snape’s eyes flash knowingly. 

_“Accio Parchment!”_ The map flies from the stairs, slips through Severus’s fingers, and lands in Moody’s hand. 

“My mistake,” Moody says calmly, “It’s mine. Must’ve dropped it earlier.” 

_Lies._

Severus’s eyes dart from the egg to the map and immediately he puts two and two together. “Potter.” He says quietly. 

“What’s that?” 

“Potter!” he snarls, making you wince. He whips his head around and stares at an empty spot on the stairs, “That egg is Potter’s egg. That piece of parchment belongs to Potter! I’ve seen it before! Potter is here, in his invisibility cloak!” he immediately whisks towards the stairs and begins to reach like some sort of blind man. 

An unsettling feeling crawls up from your core and ripples in your veins. _Darling…_ you can’t help but think, _You look barking mad…_

“There’s nothing there, Snape!” barks Moody, “But I’ll be happy to tell the headmaster how quickly your mind jumped to Harry Potter. 

“Meaning. What?” Severus hisses. 

“Meaning Dumbledore wants to know who has it in for the boy.” Moody replies suspiciously. 

“Excuse me, sir!” you cut in, “If you’re implying that he was the one who put Harry’s name in the goblet of fire, you’re wrong!” 

“Kit—” Snape begins calmly. 

“I was with him all day! He didn’t do it!” you exclaim in a high-pitched squeak. 

Severus lowers his hands, “I merely thought,” he says slowly, “That if Potter was wandering after hours again…it’s an unfortunate habit of his…he should be stopped. For—for his own safety.” 

_What the fuck!? You’re acting very strange, darling! You must be sleep-drunk!_ But at the same time, you feel a glimmer of hope in your chest. 

“Ah I see. Got the lad’s best interests at heart, do ye?” 

Silence. You glance between Severus and Moody warily. You can’t make sense of your partner’s expression at the moment. 

“I think I will go back to bed.” Severus finishes curtly. 

“Best idea you’ve had all night.” 

“Come on, Kit.” Severus hisses under his breath and tugs your arm, pulling you back towards the dorms. You cast one more glare at Professor Moody before letting yourself be led away. When you get inside and settle back in bed, tension is still thick in the air. 

You’re too afraid to say anything to your love right now. The whole situation has left you the slightest bit puzzled. And his display on the stairs…disturbed. You knew he was right, but his behavior had still managed to freak you out slightly. 

_He’s tired._ You tell yourself, _He’s just very tired…a-and the sound spooked him, I’m sure of it. That’s why he was being so strange._

A question tugs at the back of your mind, “ _What is he hiding underneath those bandages?”_

-xXx-

At lunch break during work the next day, the third owl you sent out finds you and Severus together in the teacher’s lounge. When you see it, your stomach twists into a giant knot. 

“Oh God…” you say, “…It’s a Howler…” 

“Stars…” 

You gulp. 

“Well. You may as well get it over with. I’m going to see myself out. Let me know when the bloody thing is done screaming at you.” 

You tighten your grip on the letter, and your arms slightly tremble. Beads of sweat form on your forehead. “I’m terrified…” you say. 

He turns back around and rejoins you, “Fine. I’ll stay with you.” 

“Thank you…” you say in almost a whisper. He places his hands over his ears. You slowly open the letter. **It whisks out of your hand and begins to scream in your mother’s voice in a sudden, piercing cry that shakes the table.**

“KIT LAUREL OAKLEY WHAT THE HELL IS THE MATTER WITH YOU? YOU’RE BARKING MAD! YOU COULDN’T EVEN WAIT FOR A RESPONSE, COULD YOU? YOU’RE SO SELFISH AND IMPATIENT! YOU ASSUME WE’LL JUST BE _OKAY_ WITH YOU IMPULSIVELY MOVING IN WITH A PARTNER OUT OF WEDLOCK—ANOTHER WIZARD! AND A _SLYTHERIN_ , EVEN **WORSE!** HE’S NEARLY TEN YEARS OLDER THAN YOU! YOUR FATHER WOULD NEVER APPROVE, YOU KNOW IT! YOU DID IT TO SPITE HIM, I’M SURE! NOT TO MENTION, YOU COMPLETELY CUT CONTACT WITH US, BLAMING EVERYTHING ON HIM! YOU’RE SO UNGRATEFUL! WE’VE DONE EVERYTHING FOR YOU! AND **_THIS_** IS HOW YOU THANK US!? WE DON’T DESERVE YOUR CHILDISH BEHAVIOURS! YOUR FATHER’S RIGHT! THIS VOODOO CODSWALLOP! THIS “MAGIC”! IT’S UNNATURAL...IT’S ALIEN! IT’S BLASPHEMOUS AND IMMORAL! THOSE TOXIC POTION FUMES AND THE GIBBERISH YOU CALL SPELLS HAVE POISONED YOUR MIND! THEY’VE MADE YOU THINK IT’S OKAY JUST TO **DISOWN** US! ISOLATE US BECAUSE WE DON’T BELONG! YOU WIZARDS AND YOUR SUPERIORITY COMPLEXES! I SHOULD HAVE NEVER LET YOU GO TO HOGWARTS AT ALL! IF I HADN’T, I MIGHT STILL BE ABLE TO RECOGNIZE MY OWN CHILD! MY LIFE WOULDN’T BE SO DIFFICULT! IF YOU EVER DECIDE TO COME HOME AGAIN, YOU’D BETTER LEAVE THAT FANTASY BEHIND YOU!” 

Your eyes sting with enraged tears. The words cut you like a burning knife. You glance warily at Severus. His face is twisted and his lip, curled. Your lip quivers, and your eyes burn with the beginnings of tears. You bite down on the skin of your lower lip to try to fight them down. You feel panic rise in your chest. You didn’t feel safe to let yourself go in here—in a place that was so open to the public. 

“She always does this. She sides with my father even when she knows he’s completely wrong. She allows his views to dominate…” you draw in a shaky breath, “And to be the deciding factor in the house because she doesn’t want conflict. She lets him…” you trail off. Your eyes blur. “ _She_ …is a _disgrace_ to wizard-kind!” you feel your anger boiling up, “She’s a half-blood, but when she married him, she gave that up. Everything she learned at Hogwarts, she buried in her memory. She suppressed that part of herself to shame because it didn’t align with his views. And she gave up everything to rear children. She could have been a teacher or an employee for the Ministry. But instead she let her skills go to waste to be at the mercy of the worst kind of muggles…” 

“She doesn’t want me coming home? FINE! I won’t go back! Not _ever_! Especially after she insulted you, too! A-and she insulted all of my friends! Not only has she made me feel like shit, but she attacked you all as well! You’ve never done anything to her!” you draw in a shaky breath, “She thinks this whole wizard business took her child from her? _NO!_ It saved me! From both of _them!_ _They_ do not get to tell me how to live my life. _They_ do not get to tell me who to love! _They_ do not get to tell me…” 

You have a pounding headache. Your racing heart echoes in your ears and your breathing is shallow. Your throat is so dry it burns. Suddenly, the door to the staff room opens and someone comes in. You stiffen. 

“Goodness gracious, what on earth is going on in here, I heard a lot of yell—” 

McGonagall is cut off when you leap up from the chair. You sprint out of the room, roughly pushing passed her, hiding your face as you fly down the corridor towards your office. As you leave, you hear her flabbergasted voice say something like, “My stars, Severus, what did you… _do…_ to that poor dear?” 

If Severus responded to her, his voice is too low for you to hear. The bitter spite and deep hurt you feel from hearing that adds to the pile of negative emotions you’re feeling right now. 

_They barely noticed when I was being abused by Lockhart, but they don’t think twice about falsely accusing Severus of the same thing! B-because they just think that all he is is a horrible, mean, brute! Why can’t they just be happy for us? It isn’t fair!_

**You tear open your office door, run inside, lock it, and spend the rest of the lunch hour crying.** You sob until your cheeks are drenched and new tears become dust. Your dry throat is burning, and your shoulders are left with nothing but discomforting tremors. 

And that’s when you hear the knock on the door. “Kit, for Stars sake, open this door!” he exclaims. You draw in a shaky breath and slowly walk to the door, letting Severus inside. He kicks it closed with his foot, and then pulls you in for a much-needed embrace, shushing you gently and squeezing you tight. 

When he pulls away, he does something that you never thought he’d ever do. He leans forward and kisses away your tears with a light brush of his lips. You close your eyes to feel the gentle butterfly kisses. Then he pulls away. You open them. He’s looking right at you. 

“…If I ever get my hands on your parents…” he begins lowly. 

“Severus, please no.” you exclaim, voice cracking, “My father doesn’t need another reason to despise wizards.” 

“Fine. But you won’t be going back there. Not as long as I’m around.” he says. A weak smile passes on your lips. You glance about your office. Jareth is not in here. He’s napping in your dorm. 

“Wishing Jareth were here, are you?” Severus cuts in. 

“W-when I feel like this, I immediately use him for support…”

“You’ve got me you know.” he huffs. 

A pitiful smile cracks across your lips, “Of course, I know that. Silly me, force of habit…” 

He glances at the time on his pocket watch. “If we had more time, I would make you some tea…” he says. He plops down into the chair in front of your desk and scoots back. You curl yourself into his lap, pressing your cheek to his heartbeat. 

“I’ll have some after work...” you say, “For now this is perfectly fine…” 

That evening, he infuses your tea with Draught of Peace, and for that, you are most grateful. 

_It doesn’t matter what they think._ you at last come to terms with, _we love each other. And I know that he’s secretly soft and sweet…_

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who skipped the scene, essentially Kit receives a Howler from their mom with some extremely unfair and awful things said in it which insult not only Kit but their friends and Snape and Slytherin house. After the Howler bursts into flames, Kit tells Snape that things have always been like this, that their mother gave up her abilities when she married Kit's father, and that she always sides with him. They end with saying they won't ever go home again. McGonagall hears the commotion and comes in asking what's wrong. Kit runs out of the staff room in tears. As they're leaving, they hear McGonagall ask Snape what he did to upset them, which makes Kit even more upset. Kit then remarks that everyone at Hogwarts views Snape unfairly and remarks that the staff barely noticed when Lockhart was abusing Kit, but they don't think twice about assuming Snape is doing the same thing, and that they think he is just a horrible, mean brute. Kit ends the scene with wondering why the staff can't just be happy for them and Snape and making the conclusion that it isn't fair.


	12. Drowning

XII. Drowning 

You are not looking forward to the second task at all. The snow is starting to melt, so the ground has turned to slush, and the air outside is cold still, although it is not as cold as it was. It is almost March, so the weather is showing signs of spring, but it is still too cold to swim, and you can’t believe the champions are expected to do so. You’re bundled up in your purple coat and scarf still, as you climb the stairs to the stands, which rest upon stilts atop the icy water of the lake. There’s a dock that has been built out to a part of the lake that the champions can dive right in. They’re beginning to line up now, keeping their robes tightly around the bathing suits to combat the cold air. However, Harry Potter is not there yet, and the event is twenty minutes down. You silently wish that he doesn’t show up. One less champion to worry about. But not one less child. 

You know that the task is for the students to recover what was “taken from them”, although a more appropriate term would be, “who was taken for them”. There are four kids down in the inky depths of that lake, in a deep sleep, waiting for the champions to rescue them. They’re being guarded by the group of selkies down there, and lurking in the depths as well you know, is a giant squid and grindylows. 

“If hypothermia doesn’t get them, the monsters of the deep will!” you say icily, looking up at Severus, “A-and what about those four kids down there? What if they—” 

“Even if one or more of the champions fail, Dumbledore isn’t going to let that happen to the victims. His morality isn’t that gray.” Snape scoffs. 

_This is so not right…why am I even here…_

“I’ll tell you again,” Snape begins, “The event hasn’t started yet. You’re allowed to leave, you know. It wouldn’t make much of a difference, honestly. It isn’t as if we’ll be able to see any of them until they come back up with their ‘precious cargo’. Although, if you want the chance of seeing a mermaid, I suggest you stay.” 

_And I want to see for myself that they’re all safe._

The air is filled with excitement, and the band plays an eerie tune, with the choir behind them, singing the words to a song that makes your skin crawl, repeating the two stanzas over and over again. 

Your stomach churns and you shuffle nervously from foot to foot. _I hate this, I hate this…_ You were told not to believe the words in the song, but the eeriness of the words chills you to the bone. 

_Come seek us where our voices sound_

_We cannot sing above the ground_

_An hour long you'll have to look_

_To recover what we took_

_An hour long you'll have to look_

_To recover what we took_

_Your time's half-gone, so tarry not_

_Lest what you seek stays here to rot…_

Severus squeezes your shoulder. You glance at him, swallowing nervously. This whole thing was just so medieval. Severus checks his watch. _Five minutes...five minutes…_

_Just start already!_ You glance back at the wooden dock. He’s still not there. 

“Shame,” Severus comments dryly, “It looks like Mr. Weasley is going to be stuck sleeping with the fishes.” 

Your heart drops to your stomach. “Severus, that isn’t even funny! Your morbid humor has no place here right now.”

“Kit, do I need to repeat myself again?” he asks, slightly irritated. 

“I can’t help it that I’m nervous…” Although your nervousness wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was that with the way things were going this year, your parents’ wild accusation of Hogwarts being an insane asylum wasn’t near as far fetched as you wanted it to be. That was the thing that was getting to you. You force that thought away, trying to replace it with all the good things about it. You look directly at Severus and he tries to offer you a reassuring smile, although it’s too forced to believe. It told you that he was mildly concerned, too. Your eyes wander back to the dock. 

Harry Potter arrives out of breath, with just two minutes to spare. In that same instance, you realize that Percy Weasley is at the judge’s table. 

“Severus, where’s Mr. Crouch?” you ask. 

“You just now noticed he’s been missing? He’s been missing for awhile.” 

“Doesn’t that seem a bit weird to you?” 

Severus shrugs, “Mr. Crouch’s business is not my concern.” he says indifferently. And that’s that. 

“For this second task, the champions will have one hour to recover what was taken from them.” Dumbledore reiterates, before turning his focus to them, “Now then, on my wand, Champions, get ready.” The cannon goes off and all at once the four of them dive in, their bodies swallowed up by the dark mouth.

“And now, we wait.” Severus tells you. 

_Great. Fucking great. The last thing I need right now is that. If anticipation is what they’re going for with this, it’s completely bollocks. Horrid desperation is the descriptive words I would choose!_

And thus, begins the longest hour of your life. 

-xXx-

You spend it suffering with that sinking feeling. Head hurting. And in no mood to talk at all. All you get to do is stare at the surface of the chilly water. Why couldn’t the mermaids perform some kind of water dance or something to get your mind off of this!? 

Your throat is dry from the cold air. You shuffle uncomfortably, and force yourself to sit down, pressing your fingers to your temples and aggressively tapping your foot on the floor of the bleachers. For some reason, Severus’s worried eye on you makes you even more anxious. People are conversing around you, nonchalantly, their voices garbled into indistinguishable murmurs. It’s driving you crazy. 

_How can everyone be so nonchalant when there are children down there risking their lives with giant squids, selkies, and water demons!?_

Ten minutes down, there’s a row of excitement. You stand to see what it’s all about. Everyone’s eyes are fixated on one thing. They’re pointing. 

“Want to see a mermaid Kit, take a look at _her_.” You follow his gaze. And there you see Dumbledore conversing in a series of shrieks, inhuman hisses and spats with a particularly ferocious looking creature. She’s almost human. She’s far from beautiful. Her skin is a greenish color, and her face is small, squared, and hallowed. She has bulbous yellow eyes and bass-like lips. Her claws are sharp, with webs between wiry fingers. Her scaly green skin ripples with muscles, and her tail is long, slimy and serpentine. She’s adorned in faded gold and pearls. She’s nothing like the pictures.

Their conversation carries for a few moments, before she vanishes back beneath the water’s surface, her long tail flicking in the air as she goes back down. Dumbledore clears his throat to address you and the rest of the audience. 

“The Merchieftaness has informed us--” 

He’s cut off when Fleur Delacour’s head breaks the surface of the icy water. Her blonde hair is plastered to her milky skin and she’s gasping for air, coughing. Her eyes are wide, and she looks sickly. Madame Maxime and one of the other Beauxbatons girls rushes to her and helps pull her out of the water. Your heart lurches. She’s covered in welts and scratches, glinting red and shiny against her skin, which has taken on a slightly ashy tint. She’s stiff as a pole, and she staggers across the bridge and plops onto the floor, curling into a fetal position and watching the dark water hopelessly. 

You bite your thumb with uneasy anxiety. 

“What the hell happened to her!?” you exclaim fearfully. 

“Grindylows.” Severus replies icily. 

“Unfortunately, Miss Delacour has withdrawn from the match. She could not get passed the Grindylows.” Dumbledore explains. 

“Yeah! Because those filthy water demons almost ripped her apart!” you hiss in response through your staggered breath. _This whole thing just keeps getting worse and worse!_ You draw in a breath, clenching your fists. Severus squeezes your shoulder. 

“Kit, you need to calm down. The last thing I need is for you to faint again.” 

-xXx-

The rest of the champions take more than the hour they were allowed, and you nearly suffer another panic attack. The moment Harry Potter’s head breaks the surface with Ron and Gabrielle Delacour, Severus takes you by the arm and half-drags you back to the castle. 

-xXx-

“There’s no question of it,” he says, once you’re seated on the sofa in the dorm room, “You’re not going to the third task and that’s final.” 

“You can’t tell me what to do!” you reply, sharper than you intended, “I’ll go if I want! I made it this far!”

“Enough with this!” he exclaims, “Your mulish stubbornness is blinding you from the truth!” 

You fall silent. 

“You’re so hellbent on going to all the tasks to prove your loyalty to these champions that you don’t notice it’s _making_ you _sick._ ” he says lowly, “If anyone asks where you are, I’ll just tell them you weren’t fit to go.” 

You bristle with frustration. _How dare he try to control me!_ You think angrily. 

“You don’t have the authority to be this controlling, Severus!” you say sharply, “I’m not a student! I’m your partner! We’re equals! You can’t tell me what to do and what not to do!” 

“Controlling!? What the hell are you talking about?” he exclaims, “I’m not trying to control you, I’m trying to help you! Or are you too stubborn and ignorant to notice that, too?” 

You glare. 

He sighs, “Look, I don’t want you to go because it’s clearly bad for your health, understand?” he huffs, “I’m _concerned,_ my stars!”

Your expression softens. 

“I didn’t think I had to spell it out for you. I thought you knew me better than that.” his voice falls, as if he’s hurt by what you’ve just said. 

And your stomach churns again, because now you feel awful, “I’m sorry, Severus…” you say softly, “I just…” you try to explain, but you can’t form words for a justification, “That wasn’t right of me to lash out…I won’t go to the third task, i-if it means that much to you…” you avert your gaze. 

“Thank you.” he replies dryly, and then he turns to excuse himself to his office.

“Severus, wait!” you exclaim. He stops and glances over his shoulder. 

“I really am…sorry…” you say meekly. 

“Apology accepted.” he replies. And then, he leaves. You don’t really feel like your apology’s accepted. 

You go to bed early. You’re asleep before he comes back in the room. 

The next day, he’s rather irritable. Someone has broken into his stores again. He immediately blames Harry Potter. And there’s no point trying to convince him otherwise. Especially since it’s still a little tense between you two. To make up for it, you decide that to get to the bottom of this, so you sneak out of your room after Severus has fallen asleep and try to conduct a stakeout. 

By stakeout, you mean you sit at the desk and watch the door. You sit there and wait patiently, with your wand handy. But very quickly, you find yourself with heavy eyelids, and you drift off to sleep... 

{~xXx~} 

...At first it starts out wonderfully. You and Severus are skinny dipping in the Black Lake, with the billion stars and the sliver of the moon glittering above you. The milky moonlight illuminates his pale body, and the stars reflect in his deep galaxy eyes. He smiles and you smile back. 

Blissfully, you close your eyes, and you feel his lips and tongue upon your mouth, and his wandering hands caressing your body in sacred places that only he could touch. The water feels warm and inviting. 

Until, that is, his fingers rake painfully across your back as he is tugged violently from you, beneath the swirling blackness of the lake. You try to catch him, but his weight is like a heavy burden in your arms. 

“Severus!” you shriek, panic swirling in your chest. You duck below the water to try and find him. And there, you see his body slowly sinking, wasting. You immediately try to swim down after him. You reach for his hand, but slippery fingers slide from yours. And suddenly, you find yourself tangled in a mess of weeds, tugging and yanking to get free, but the binds curl tightly around your limbs, your middle, and your neck, like a boa constrictor, and you can’t move. You can’t breathe. You struggle, but the bonds only get tighter. The burning from the sharp binds, like raking claws, fills your whole body, and your arms feel as though they’re being carved with hot knives. You want to scream, but if you do, you’ll surely drown. Instead, you force yourself to try and break free. There’s a powerful series of snaps. The weeds crack against your skin, and it stings. 

You swim down towards the dark, sinking heap, vision going in and out. Your lungs are crying out for you to breathe. You’re ignoring the burning sensations everywhere as adrenaline courses through your veins. You fall into his arms for a comforting embrace. You try to swim back up towards the surface. 

But then, you hear a sound so bone-chillingly horrible. The moaning and crying of the damned. Like banshees. It makes your ears bleed. Severus is ripped from your grasp again. Dark, bony hands burst from the depths and latch onto his limbs, dig their nails into his bare flesh, and tug at his hair. 

Bony, dark skeletal creatures that are hardly recognizable as once humans climb all over him. The long nails tear into his skin. He struggles to pull himself free, his hands grasp his throat as burning water fills his lungs. He continues to struggle to break away, to get back to you. But there are so many specters crawling all over him that his body begins to vanish into an inky blackness. The metallic taste spills into your mouth and burns like acid down your throat as the water is turned red from blood. Your vision blurs over. You try to scream and call to him. 

You’re gagged by the metallic taste of blood. But still, you struggle to reach for him. Panic envelopes your whole body, you gasp and cough and splutter. 

“NO!” you scream silently, “DON’T TAKE HIM AWAY FROM ME!” 

_The specters have him. The specters have him._

The last thing you see are his pleading eyes through your blurry gaze. Your heart breaks. 

The scene swirls and vanishes around you. You’re overcome with an excruciating sensation you can only describe as your heart being ripped from your body. 

Your form thumps like dead weight onto dry land of the island. You cough and splutter through strained and raspy cries. Your shoulders shake. You curl up in the fetal position. Your trembling arm still burns. Acid tears pool down your face. And through your blurred and burning gaze you see the bloody, crimson words carved into your skin:

_“Filthy Mudblood”_

The world goes black with your silent scream. 

Someone is shaking you violently. “Wake up! _Wake. UP!”_ Your eyes snap open. You're lying in a heap on the cold ground of the dungeons. Someone is bending over you. 

Your head's pounding, your shoulders are trembling, and your eyes still burn with tears. Your vision comes into focus on a face framed with black hair, a pointy nose, and blazing, dark eyes. 

Your lip quivers when you see him. 

“What are you doing in here!? What the hell just happened!? I heard a crash, and then I found you on the floor, shaking and crying like you were having a seizure! You wouldn’t wake up! It was like you were trapped somewhere else!” 

You stare, wide-eyed, as all the horrifying memories of your night terror come rushing back to your head. You pull yourself up and force out a raspy word from your parched throat. “...Severus…” your eyes cloud with a fresh stream of hot tears, and you stumble into his body, grasping fistfuls of the fabric of his clothing and clinging onto him for dear life. 

“I had…a nightmare…” you choke out, “It was so horrible I…I don’t wanna talk about it...” 

“It’s alright. It’s over now. I’m right here.” He says soothingly. His arms wrap tightly around you, for a comforting embrace. He rubs circles on your back. Slowly, you feel yourself begin to calm down. And finally, he escorts you back to the dorm. Once you settle, he tries to distract you. 

“Why were you in _my_ office this late at night?” he asks at last. 

“I was trying to stage a stakeout.” you reply, “To find out who’s been stealing from you…but I fell asleep while I was guarding them…a-and I had that horrible dream… 

“You were _guarding_ my office?” he echoes.

“Yes.” 

“There’s no point in doing that. What if Karkaroff was wandering around and he cornered you? What would you have done!?” 

“I…” 

“I understand you were trying to help, Kit. But it’s a pointless effort. I already know who’s been stealing from my stores. Potter and his friends, obviously. They’ve done it before.” he says matter-a-factly. 

“Do you have proof?” 

“Excuse me?”

“Evidence. How do you know that?” 

“I. Just. Do.” he enunciates. 

“Do you?” 

“What!?” his voice is icy.

“Severus, you have this weird vendetta against him. Don’t you think you’re being too harsh? Why do you hate him so much, I mean…wh-what did he ever do to you? He’s 14.” 

“He did _ENOUGH_.” Severus replies, a snap at the end of his sentence that takes you aback, “All I _see_ when I look at the _brat_ is the ghost of his father—coming back to torment me again! And he stole Lily’s eyes. I can’t even _look_ at him without being stabbed through the heart with sharp daggers of grief! He acts so much like James it’s _sickening._ ” His voice is laced with poisonous disdain. 

“B-but he has some of his mother’s spirit…and kindness.” you reply, “Surely you can see that, can’t you?” 

He falls silent for a moment. But then his icy glare hardens further. “ _No_.” he says bitterly, “All I see of Lily in him are her eyes. I _hate_ it. And they serve as _nothing_ but a _vile. Reminder._ That that boy…is not…” he trails off. 

“Is not what?” you press. 

His voice softens. “…My s—” he abruptly cuts off. You feel a pang. Whatever ghost of gentleness was in his tone just now vanishes with the curl of his lip and the searing hatred in his eyes. He turns his back to you, “Never mind. This fatigue is getting to my head. I’ve been inhaling too many potion fumes. I don’t know what I’m talking about. I could never care for the boy. Even _if_ I wanted to, which I don’t. _Not_. Ever. And I’d be damned if I tried.” 

“Severus…” 

You’re cut off by his hiss of pain. You roll towards his back and lift your body to see over his shoulder. He’s clutching his left arm…which is bare of bandages. His hand is placed over some mark you can’t make out. He applies pressure to the lanky limb. In the torchlight, though, what you do see are thin, white scars from the blade of a knife, and they run up to the crook of his arm and down to his wrist.

Your heart lurches. Your stomach twists in a knot. And sadness and empathy overtake you. “Severus, you…” he stiffens and immediately folds his arm in so you can’t see it. 

“What did I tell you, Kit!?” he says sharply, glaring in the candlelight. You wince, feeling a sharp sting in your chest.

“I- I didn’t mean to look! It isn’t my fault you’re not wearing bandages right now! I’m sorry I accidentally saw things you didn’t want me to see! B-but I promise I don’t judge you f-for self-harming! I-I had a rough childhood too!” 

“That isn’t the point! If you _saw_ I wasn’t wearing a bandage, you should have just _looked away_ instead of _staring_ at it and then _opening your mouth_ to make commentary I didn’t ask for!” he snaps, “I _told_ you I didn’t want to show you! And you didn’t listen!”

“I-I wasn’t trying to invade your privacy, Severus!” you exclaim, “I just happened to catch a glimpse and I spoke before I could think...” 

“You do things without thinking a lot!” he says sharply, “...Dunderhead.”

_Ouch._

“I said I was sorry, alright!” you exclaim, glaring. And then you get up from bed and storm into the bathroom. Once inside, you rummage through the cupboards for another bandage. You return, and then hand it to him. 

“Here! Here’s your bloody bandage!” you say, “Take it to cover up your self-proclaimed shame. Even though I am not judging you and I literally do not hold it against you, but, whatever! Whatever.” He half yanks it from your grasp, eyes flashing, before he quickly begins to wrap it ‘round, and then sticks it in place with his wand. 

He says something under his breath that might be an insult. You brush it off. Your eyes and shoulders are heavy with sluggish fatigue. You climb back in bed and turn your back to him, putting a distance between your two bodies that had been practically one for months. He puts out the lights. And if he said anything to you following that, you were asleep before you could hear him. 

-xXx-

You're groggy and exhausted the next morning in your classes. You'd barely slept the night before. You have a headache from your fatigue, and your whole body feels like it's being pushed down by weights. Your feet are sluggish and heavy. There's tension between you and Severus because of last night's lover's spat. You go down to the Great Hall without much conversation, and your usual morning energy is completely gone. You end up dismissing most of your classes early, because you just…can’t. 

You also cancel your office hours. You need sleep, and the fatigue and stress are making you feel woozy. As you pass the Potions classroom, you catch two figures out of the corner of your eye, and you hear the voices of Severus and Karkaroff. You stop and turn back around. 

“Can you deny it now, Severus!?” Karkaroff exclaims harshly, “Hmm!?” 

You peer around the corner. Your breath catches in your throat and horror claws its way through you. Severus has his sleeve rolled up. He’s clutching his arm tightly. It trembles. 

Pain stabs you like a burning blade. 

You recognize the marking- the skull, with the snake coiled through it and hanging out of it. Bile bubbles in your throat. That is a Dark Mark if you’ve ever seen one...

It is then you realize that they’ve fallen silent. And their eyes are burning into you. You feel like you’re wilting under their gazes. 

“Take a long look, Lolita,” Karkaroff spits, “…And see how your so-called ‘love’ lies. Have fun explaining this, _Severus_.” 

Your throat is dry. You can’t speak. The tall man pushes past you, and you stagger backwards. You clench your trembling fists and dig your nails into your palms. Your body shakes as you bite your lip. 

_NO!_


	13. Dirty Blood

XIII. Dirty Blood

_Oh God. Oh stars. No. No. No please!...It’s not true…it’s not true…it’s not true…this is not real, this is not real! I’m not seeing this…I’m not seeing this…_

Severus stares at you with widened eyes, bracing himself. You approach him slowly. You grab his wrist and yank up his sleeve. Your trembling nails dig into his skin as you take it in. It’s clear as day, despite being under the line of puckered, risen flesh of scars. The outline of the mark is scarred and risen over, too, highlighting it’s sickening form. There’s no denying it. 

You harshly let go and you take a staggering step back. 

“Kit…” 

“Office.” you say harshly, “Now.” Reluctantly, he steps inside, and you slam the door behind the two of you. You use a charm to soundproof the room. And then, you round on him with your eyes blazing.

“You’re a _DEATH EATER!?”_ You’re fighting angry tears, “THAT’S WHAT YOU KEPT FROM ME?” He winces at the volume of your voice, “I can’t believe…” you trail off.

“Kit…” he repeats. But you won’t hear it. You’re too appalled and too heartbroken to listen. You’ve lost all sense of rationality. 

“I trusted you! I gave you everything and you betrayed me!” you cry, “You and those other so-called Puritans!” panic rises in your chest, “You all want people like me—muggle-borns, to suffer and die!” Your stomach churns and your head pounds.

“Kit, listen…” he steps forward, you back away. 

“NO! YOU LISTEN TO ME!” you scream. 

He rears back, “Was that your plan all along then!?” you demand. “Just to get close to me so you could _pretend_ to love me, just to _break_ my heart, _watch_ me _suffer_ ¸ and then _kill_ me!?” your eyes sting. He stiffens. His eyes gloss over, turning red from the salt welling up in them. 

He inhales shakily and grits his teeth, “Do the words ‘I love you’ mean nothing, Kit?”

“Answer my question properly, DAMMIT!” 

His reddened, swirling eyes prick with pain as he hisses out forced words through gritted teeth, “I did answer you little mud—” he cuts off abruptly. He digs his nails into his palms- his resolve breaks. You swear you catch a pitiful, practically inaudible, “ _I can’t…_.” fall from his lips. 

You feel your heart crack, “GO ON! Say it! _Say it!_ I’m sure you’re _dying_ to call me that, aren’t you!?” You glare at him. He says nothing. Your blood boils.

**_Freak! Freak! It’s a curse, the devil’s work! Why couldn’t you have been born normal!?_** _**It’s unnatural, all of it! You’ll be next, Mudbloods. Mudblood. Mudblood. Mudblood. Born and raised by awful muggles...**_ **_A sin! A blasphemy_**!.. ** _You’re only going to that insane asylum so you can learn to suppress your powers and NOT bring shame to this house…_** **_Mudblood, mudblood, mudblood.._**. ** _Filthy, dirty, vile mudblood…_**

You choke out the excruciating words, “B-because that’s all I am, aren’t I? A filthy. Little. Mudblood.” Your voice breaks with tears and disgust. You clench your teeth. 

“STOP!” 

You don’t stop. “I came from a _filthy_ muggle and a _disgraceful_ witch who gave up her gift!” you glare down at your hands, “These powers are nothing but a dirty curse for a dirty muggle brat! I’ll always be a freak! No matter what world I’m in!” your throat is painfully raw, “A _freak_! A no-good-dirty-rotten-vile-little-mud—” 

An ear-splitting shatter fills the air as he violently smashes a potion bottle against the shelf. You go rigid. His tall, stiff form rounds on you, eyes blazing. You back up towards the door and he roughly grabs your shoulders, gripping them tightly. He shakes you as he speaks. 

“You. Listen. To me.” he exclaims, “Don’t! Call yourself that. Again!” he grits his teeth. 

You stare at him with wide, glassy eyes flickering with fear. You taste the salt of tears as they trickle onto your tongue. He looks horribly menacing and for once in your life you’re actually afraid of him. Like…really afraid of him. 

“You’re hurting me! L-Let GO!” you shove him away. 

He whips around and falls against the shelf, pounding it with his fists. The containers rattle loudly. It echoes through the room. He presses his forehead against the bookcase and screws his eyes together. His expression twists in agony, and tears leak down his face. He draws in a shaky breath. 

“I’m sorry…I couldn’t stand you saying those things…it was so triggering, I just…” 

You feel some of your initial shock and anger whittle away. 

“You’re not just a ‘filthy mudblood’! You’re much more than that, you’re…your blood status is not your fault!” he cuts off, losing his words.

_Thank you for lying to me…. **But he’s not,** but he is, **but he’s not...** Think, Kit, think!_

“...I-I did join the Death Eaters, Kit, but that was years ago! I _was_ a Death Eater! I’m not anymore! But once you have a Dark Mark there’s no getting rid of it, don’t you understand!?” he exclaims, “You can’t take back your soul once you sell it to the dev—” he trails off, “It’s _impossible_ to remove. I would know! I _tried!_ Why do you think there’s scars across it, hmm? I hate this wretched thing! This branded abomination…I cut myself so I would see blood and not _this_ every time I looked at my skin!” venom is laced in his voice as he spits out the words, “This mark, this…I should have never gone...” 

You slam your fists on his desk, and you bend double over it, digging your nails in your palms. Your shoulders tremble, and your body shakes, and burning tears leak from your eyes. You start to sob. All the horrible things you’ve just said come crashing down upon you and you feel like the worst person in existence. You look up at him through a blurry gaze. His tears drip onto his mangled and branded skin. His fists are clenched so tightly that his arm trembles. He rips his face away and turns his back to you, pressing against the shelf again.

“I love you…” he murmurs painfully, in a voice so broken it doesn’t even sound like him, “And the worst part…” he inhales, and then looks up, trying to steady his shaking voice, and hisses lowly, “...But I suppose I can’t blame you though, can I?”

“Severus…I’m so, so sorry…that I would even think…forgive me…I didn’t…I just…”

“I shouldn’t have thought I could get someone’s love in return when I don’t even deserve it…” 

“Severus—” 

He draws in another breath and turns around slowly. He digs his fingers into his trembling fists. When he meets your eyes, your heart breaks. He’s crying. 

You’re frozen where you stand. 

“Leave me.” he says with quiet bitterness. Tears stream down his face, “I don’t deserve you…I’m just putting you in danger…leave me…” 

Your stomach churns and your heart rate rapidly increases, blood pounding in your ears. Your throat goes dry, and a storm of negative emotions cloud your brain. 

_No.! No! No! I won’t. I won’t do it! I won’t! I won’t! I won’t leave you Severus! You do deserve me! Of course, you deserve me! You do! You do! You do...We all make mistakes…you made a mistake you were just a kid you…_

“G-get out! Go! What are you waiting for?” his voice rises with strained heartache, “Get. Out.” He tries to sound menacing but he’s so hurt he just sounds pitiful. 

Your gaze softens. His eyes swirl, his face is twisted with agony. Glossy, hot tears glint on his cheeks. You step forward. 

_“Why_ are you looking at me like that!? _Don’t_ look at me like that! _Stop_ looking at me like that!” he pleads, “If you keep this up much longer, I’ll…” you embrace him tightly. He stays stiff. 

You kiss him deeply through the tears, tasting the salt on your dry tongue. His fingers curl tightly in fistfuls of your clothing. When you pull away, he’s looking at you with misty, doe-like eyes. 

You take his arm and roll up his sleeve, exposing the dark mark and the self-harm scars to you. Lips press against the marks gently, tingling when you pull away. 

“...It doesn’t matter though, does it?” You run your fingers across the uneven surface, “That’s in the past isn’t it?” 

“No, Kit, you don’t understand, you don’t…”

You look up at him and smooth his hair behind his ear, “I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions...I understand that I love you now. Whatever happened back then doesn’t matter. We all make mistakes. But I don’t hold it against you. I know that you love me, and that’s all I need to know.”

“Kit…”

“Shhhh…” you say gently, tucking your head under his chin and embracing him tightly. He remains stiff. You start to hum a lullaby, before the humming becomes words. 

_“Baby close your eyes_

_And rest your weary mind_

_Let me hold you close,_

_I'll sing you this lullaby._

_Let your worries go_

_Think of nothing more…”_

Shaky arms find your back and wrap around you too. So tight that if he squeezes any harder he’ll break your ribs. 

He’s embracing you, yes…But from where you are, you can’t see the pain swirling in his unclosed eyes. You can’t see that he’s torn. But he is. And you should know that. He’s resting his weary chin upon your head, but his tears are still streaming down his cheeks. A part of his heart is breaking. 

Oh, but you know, and he knows...that he loves you…he loves you…he loves you. He loves you and he loves so much. 

  
  
  


_…One day it might kill him. Could you live with that?_


	14. Catharsis

XIV. Catharsis

The grim air gets grimmer when you find out that Barty Crouch is dead. He’s found in the forest, with his eyes wide and horrified. His skin ashen. Rigor Mortis. Cold. But his body has not been mangled or violently assaulted. He’s dead as dust but there’s no trace of the murderer. You know as well as any wizard, that this is no doubt the work of the Killing Curse. What else could it be? 

This leaves your sleep disturbed. There’s a murderer on the loose at Hogwarts and you don’t feel safe. It puts Severus on edge, even though he tries to deny it. It makes your stomach turn with sickness. Karkaroff becomes an even more unsettling presence, crazed blue eyes blazing with constant paranoia. Alastor Moody is not much better. You try your best to keep clear of them both. 

Severus has gone lethargic again. His gaze is solemn and wandering. He clings to you…but it’s almost numb. Whatever color had been in his face has dwindled, and his hair is once again disheveled and greasy. He spends a lot more time in his office and he’s never in the mood for sex. He won’t tell you what’s wrong. Although, you’re sure it’s the death eater thing. But also…something more. 

He doesn’t talk much, so you give him physical comfort instead. Sweet, gentle touches, a kiss on the cheek, massage the kinks from his shoulders. Making sure he eats at least two meals a day, even if they’re small. You try other things too, like keeping fresh flowers in the dorm. 

You give him his space, because he blatantly asks for it, and on the rare occasion, harshly shuts you out. You know that he shouldn’t be left alone in this state, but your attention is unwanted. 

One day during spring recess, you decide to venture into Hogsmeade to find something to cheer him up. You go to the sweets shop and get plenty of goodies, and you also buy some replacement ingredients for his stores. Then, you grab some lunch to go. It’s crowded because it’s lunch hour, so you sit outside at a lonely table and quietly eat your food. That’s when you become aware that there’s eyes on you. You see a big, scrawny black dog studying you and your food. It’s sitting and panting, with its head cocked, a tongue hanging out of its mouth, and a scraggly tail thumping on the cobblestone pavement. It looks familiar, like you’ve seen it once before, but you can’t put your finger on it. But still you beckon it over. Judging by its state, it is most definitely a stray. 

“Come here, fellow.” It studies you skeptically. You gently coax it. 

“I don’t mean any harm, mate, it’s okay. I just want to give you some food.” You hold up a morsel. Slowly, it pads over to you and sniffs your hand, before taking the food from you. Then it lets you scratch it behind the ears. 

“I’d love to have a big dog like you. But I don’t think my partner would like it very much. He’s a cat person.” you say. The dog studies you with its soulful eyes. You hand it some more food. “Speaking of, he’s been kind of sad lately. We haven’t had the best few weeks recently. I’m out trying to find something cheer him up.” you smile softly, “It’s the first time I’ve been out by myself in a while, so I’m a bit nervous…especially with all the bad things that have been happening lately…” you trail off, “ 

The dog continues to look at you with its deep eyes, as if it knows what you’re saying. You take a drink of water. You turn back to your plate and reach for another morsel. There’s none left.

“Oh, I’m sorry…I don’t have anymore…umm…” you pick up your cup, “Would you like some water?” The dog wags its tail again. You pour the water onto the pavement, and the dog’s tongue laps it up just before it hits the ground, tail wagging faster. Once it’s finished, it does a little hop. You chuckle and set the empty cup back on the table, then pet the dog’s head again. 

“You’re welcome.” you grin broadly, “I-It’s the least I can do since you sat and listened to me ramble. Even though you’re a dog and can’t _really_ understand me, you can sense how I feel. And it feels good to get it out because I also know that you’re listening.” You give it one final pat, before it turns and pads off. 

You leave a tip, gather your bags, and walk back to the castle. 

-xXx-

When you get back to your dorm, Severus isn’t in there, so you knock on the door to his office. 

“Is that you, Kit?” asks a gruff, tired voice from the other side. 

“Yes. I’m back from shopping. I’ve got some things for you.” you say. 

“You can take it up to the dorm and I’ll look at them when I’m finished.” he answers. Your face falls. 

“Severus, please let me in. I’ve just gotten back, and I’ve brought you treats to cheer you up. You’ve been cooped up in there all day, I’m sure of it, and I’ve been out in Hogsmeade by myself since this morning. I’d really like to spend some quality time with you.” 

There’s a short quiet, but you hear movement on the other side of the door. It opens to reveal the tall figure in dark monochrome. He’s still in the same worn-down, greasy-haired state you’d left him in. He side-steps to let you in, before he sits back at his desk. You close the door behind you and then plop the shopping bags in front of him. Lily meows and hops up onto the desk to investigate. 

“Lily…” you chuckle softly and gently shove her away. You open the first bag and show him all the sweets you brought, as well as the pretty glass candy holder with a lid and all. “I thought this would look nice inside our dorm.” you say. 

“Yes, until the cat knocks it off the coffee table and breaks it.” he scoffs. 

“I didn’t think of that…” you say disappointedly, “I suppose I’ll just keep it in my office, then…next to my tea set…” 

“We can find a place for it in Spinner’s End,” he says, “In the meantime, I’ll take the sweets, and you can keep the candy bowl.” 

“Okay~” you slide the bag over to him, and then present the contents of the second bag, “I replaced the potions ingredients that were stolen from you. See,” you take out one vile after another and say the names, “boomslang skin, gillyweed…”

“Kit, you didn’t need to do that.” Severus tells you, “But I…appreciate it.” 

You smile weakly, “I think you should store these elsewhere. J-just to keep them safe.” you suggest. 

“Perhaps I will do that.” he replies, “Well, thank you for the sweets and the restocks, but if you don’t mind, I’d like to get back to what I was doing.” 

“Severus…I know you’re having a hard time right now…b-but shutting me out isn’t going to help anything. Wh-when you feel like this, that’s when you need me the most. I want to help you, but I can’t if you don’t let me.”

“I don’t _need ‘_ help’.” he says with a slight bite in his tone, “I’m _fine_.” This is followed by a violent cough. You step forward with a concerned expression. 

“Damn potion fumes…” he huffs. 

“I-if it’s the potion fumes, how come I smell nicotine?” you ask. His gaze hardens. 

“ _Fine._ ” he says icily, “You caught me—” he coughs again, “I made the mistake of trying to smoke again, alright? There.”

“Severus…” 

“Oh, trust me, I’m not going to do it again. I almost hurled, it was so bloody disgusting.” He says. 

“How much alcohol did you drink today?” you half-demand, glancing between him and the empty butterbeer mug on the coaster next to him. 

“Not enough to get drunk.” he huffs, “The last drink I had was an hour ago. Don’t even _start_ to lecture me about it, Kit. You’ve no place to talk.” 

“I wasn’t trying to!” you exclaim, “I’m _worried_. You’ve been so distant since…” 

“What?” he hisses, “Since the day you saw my Dark Mark, is it? Well, what the hell do you expect!? That things are just going to go back to normal after that?” 

“Well, as a couple we get through difficult things like that! No matter how hard they seem. I’m willing to see passed that…a-and just put it in the back of my mind as a bad memory…I told you I don’t hold that against you because the important thing is that you’re not a Death Eater anymore…but you can’t seem to let go of it.” 

“You don’t understand!” he exclaims. 

“Then explain it to me so I will.” You reply, almost desperately. There’s a strained silence. He sighs deeply. 

“I can’t.” 

“Why not!?” you snap, before you soften your voice and sigh, “You should be able to trust me…” 

“I do!” he says sharply, “But you have to understand that this is something I have to deal with on my own.” 

“And th-that’s okay. I can respect that. I’m not trying to make you tell me something you don’t want to. B-but I want you to know that I’ll be there for you, no matter what! You can tell me things that are bothering you and I’ll do my best to help!” you say, “Me seeing the Dark Mark was an accident…neither of us were ready for that…” you trail off, “B-but I’m glad I did! All it means is that I know you better now!” you sigh, “And we don’t have to worry about your bandage slipping off or anything during a shag or a shower. It doesn’t make any difference now. I reacted the way I did b-because it was a shock but…I’ll get used to it, and I’ll learn to cope…because I’ll love you no matter what, okay? I want you to know that.” 

His expression seems…torn. You reach across the desk and squeeze his hands. He briefly locks gazes with you, and then stares down at them and squeezes back. Whatever emotions are swirling in his eyes right now, you can’t see. You press a kiss to his head. He tightly closes his eyes and leans into your touch. The gentle heat of his breath warms your neck as he inhales and exhales deeply. 

You’re a person of your word. And as a person of your word, you don’t go to the final task on the night it occurs. You feel a bit better knowing that you don’t have to go. It’s like a weight is lifted from your shoulders. You get to stay in the castle, play with Lily, and enjoy roaming the quiet corridors by yourself while you wait for Severus to come back. 

This time you’ll certainly be glad you didn’t go. 

You’re roaming the corridors near the entry doors and that’s when you hear the clunk of Moody’s leg. You run into him in the hall, and your heart drops to your stomach. Harry is with him. He’s dirty, and beaten down, his green eyes are wide, his expression is numb, and there’s tearstains on his cheeks. 

“Alastor…wh-what happened?” 

“One of the champions has been killed.” he says. You gape, your body goes rigid. _No! NO!_ All your worst fears have come true. You bite your lip. 

“Wh-which one…?” 

“…Cedric Diggory.” 

You feel like you’re going to be sick. You slap a hand over your mouth. Your eyes sting. You turn away, draw in a shaky breath. You force back the tears. You turn around and take a staggering step forward and tightly embrace the boy, because you can’t think of anything else to do. At first, he doesn’t respond, but eventually his stiff arms come up to squeeze you too. You hold him so tight, as if you’ve made a vow to never let him go. 

Until you feel him tug away from your grasp, and you have to let go. You step aside to let them pass you. 

“Pl-please take care of him, Professor Moody…you’re stronger than I can be right now…” He nods. 

“I will.” He turns back to Harry, “Easy now lad, this way.” he leads him away. You turn away from the door, and then you take a few more clumsy steps, and then you fall to your knees in the corridor and burst into tears, weeping the most painful weep you wept since the Howler. A weep more painful since the day you found out Severus was a Death Eater. Cedric Diggory was dead. And it was all because of the fucking Triwizard Tournament. 

No, you can’t call it death, you must call it murder. Cedric Diggory was _murdered._ CEDRIC. DIGGORY. WAS MURDERED! A student, a friend, a boy…only seventeen…cruelly ripped from the life he should have had. _Murdered._ All because. Of. The damn. Stupid. Wretched. Horrid. Gladiator. Tournament. A _blood_ sport that should have never been brought back for the exact. Same. Reason. It was discontinued. At least. A hundred. Years ago. THIS. WAS. WHY…! 

Every negative experience and emotion you’d been dealing with since the start of the year comes crashing down on you all at once. And at long last you have the break down you’d been fighting back. You run back up to the dorm. And you lose it. You weep your eyes dry. You hyperventilate, throat parched and cracked. Your head spins and your heart pounds so loudly you can feel it against your ribs as if it will burst out any moment.

And no one comes to comfort you. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, hi. I know it's been a hot minute since I updated this. Funny story, I have this entire part of this series complete, I just kept forgetting to post it. Here it is now. I'll post the final chapter by next week. The reason I stopped was that I sort of lost inspiration to finish the entire series. But I'm hoping to get back into it and finish the whole thing by the end of this year or at the latest by Snape's birthday (January 9th) next year. Maybe? We'll see.


	15. Exeunt

XV. Exeunt

Here are the facts: 

When Severus returns to the dorm to tell you what happened, it’s after you’ve calmed down and gotten out of the shower. He doesn’t even know you had a breakdown because you don’t say anything about it. 

The Triwizard Tournament ended in a maze. Fleur Delacour was nearly consumed alive by it. Viktor Krum was bewitched by it. The Triwizard cup was a Portkey. Igor Karkaroff fled like a coward. Alastor Moody wasn’t Alastor Moody, but he was the Death Eater, Barty Crouch Jr., in Disguise. Barty Crouch Jr. stole from Snape’s office. Barty Crouch Jr. bewitched the Goblet and he bewitched the maze. Barty Crouch Jr. forced Harry into the tournament. Barty Crouch Jr. murdered his own father.

During the explanation, you nearly panic again, because you realize that you put Harry in horrible danger when you let Barty Crouch Jr. escort him away. But Severus tells you it wasn’t your fault because you didn’t know.

And for the tournament? Harry Potter won, but the win was not a victory, because Cedric Diggory was murdered…Cedric Diggory was murdered. 

…Cedric Diggory was murdered by _Lord Voldemort._

That’s it. Those are all the facts you need to know. 

Are you _unsatisfied_? _Unsettled?_ **Disturbed**?

Well, good.

**_…You should be._ **

Eliza, Cas, and Orion come to escort Barty Crouch Jr. back to Azkaban, but they arrive too late. Cornelius Fudge, who judged the last task in Barty Crouch's place, insisted on having a dementor with him to face the young man. And the Dementor performed the kiss. And now, one of the oldest wizarding family lines is gone. No one is happy with this, and Fudge’s usual good-naturedness is gone. He refuses to believe in the dark lord’s return. He leaves, sharply telling your friends to come with him.

Before she leaves, Eliza stops for a moment to talk to you. 

She pulls you into a tight embrace, “Let me know if you need anything. Anything at all. Come visit me so I can check up on you, too. And stay in touch or we’ll break into Spinner’s End over summer and kidnap you, got it?” 

You chuckle, and then nod sadly. She furrows her brow in concern, “Are you sure you’re gonna be okay?” You look down beside you, and you reach out with a bandaged hand and press your fingers in the spaces between Severus’s. The grip tightens to a steady grasp. You look up at Eliza and force a weak smile. 

“We will be.” 

She nods curtly and goes in for another hug. She pecks the crown of your head. 

“I’ll see you soon. Take care of each other.” She adjusts her leather jacket and firmly grips her wand. Then she turns, heading down the halls, and out towards a waiting carriage. 

Severus lets go of your hand and puts his arm around your waist. He tugs you into his side as you watch the carriage vanish in the distance, rattling wheels fading to silence. 

* * *

_“Inspirations have I none_

_Just to touch the flaming dove_

_All I have is my love of love_

_And love is not loving.”_

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it for 'Goblet of Fire' everyone. Now, I have to tackle the behemoth of a book that is 'Order of the Phoenix'. It is going to be awhile. Honestly, it's probably going to take the rest of the month, although I am planning to post some sort of "pilot" chapter to hold everyone over until then. I need to rewatch the movie, first of all, and then I need to draft, edit, and revise the story before posting. 
> 
> And I have to finish reading the book. I was never actually allowed to watch or read Harry Potter growing up, and only last year did I watch it for the first time and started reading the books. It was around me, so I was familiar with it. But yeah. I will finish this series. In the meantime, if you want, I took the time to put together a playlist on YouTube that I use when I write it. There's a dedicated set of songs for each part, and some of the later music hints at later parts of the series that haven't been written yet. Check it out here: 
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLRr2iv0Vn-YANejMu85sWF9gRGweadgKQ
> 
> Thank you so much to my new readers and the ones who have stuck with this series since I started it last year. Stay tuned everyone! See you later~


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